Elves, Hobbits, & MarySues, Oh My!
by Paige Darke
Summary: COMPLETE! A teenage girl is dropped into Middle-Earth. She finds herself the prisoner of a pair of Mary-Sues, with a complete lack of modern conveniences, reading material in ENGLISH, and everything she knows. And she most DEFINITELY does NOT want to be t
1. Twits, Pretty Elves, And Rivendell

Title - Elves, Hobbits, & Mary-Sues, Oh My  
  
Author - Paige Darke  
  
Rating - PG-13  
  
Disclaimer - Not mine. I don't even particularly want them. Too much stress.  
  
Distribution - Ask, and ye shall receive. Really, I'm flattered.  
  
Summary - A teenage girl is dropped into Middle-Earth. She finds herself the prisoner of a pair of Mary-Sues, with a complete lack of modern conveniences, reading material in ENGLISH, and everything she knows. And she most DEFINITELY does NOT want to be there.  
  
Let's get one thing straight, before I start my tale.  
  
I didn't want any of this. Yeah, so I'm a Lord of the Rings fangirl. Sue me. I'm in extensive company. But, unlike most, I've read the books. I know what happened.  
  
Also, I know about the lack of modern conveniences.  
  
Gah.  
  
~*~  
  
First thought - FUCK, my head is killing me.  
  
Second thought - FUCK, I'm late for work. Ray's gonna have my ass in a sling.  
  
Then I opened my eyes.  
  
Third thought, rational and not the least bit hysterical - Did I sleepwalk into the woods or something?  
  
"Oh, look who's awake," purred a voice, sweet as honey, smooth as silk, musical like the softest summer breeze through fresh green leaves, from next to my ear.  
  
Fourth thought, not the least bit rational, and very hysterical - Who is that, and where the fuck am I?  
  
Well, I had to give her - she WAS pretty. Too pretty. Nobody looks like that naturally. Her long, red curls had been carefully arranged over the shoulders of her white tunic. She had large green eyes and very fair skin, unmarked with the slightest blemish. You know, a lot of fair-skinned redheads have freckles. She didn'' have a one.  
  
"Oh, how fortunate," cooed another voice, much like the first. She was blonde, with blue eyes and fair skin.  
  
"Welcome to Middle-Earth," Red sneered, smiling viciously.  
  
I could feel my eyes go wide.  
  
Oh, no.  
  
Oh, FUCK.  
  
No. Way.  
  
~*~  
  
Yes, way.  
  
I was looking at myself in a pool of water.  
  
That? Definitely not me. Definitely.  
  
Well, I DO have hair, but that's about the only similiarity. It's not that freaking long, and it's brown, with blonde highlights. This was pure black. Not normal black, the kind that looks blue-ish in some lights, black-black. I'm also tall, but taller than this. I do have blue eyes, but not THAT blue. And I am definitely NOT slender. Willowy.  
  
(My God, save me. I'm a Mary Sue.)  
  
I touched the long black hair, which was now past my waist, and was gonna be such a pain in the ass when we started to travel. I looked at my big blue eyes, and wrinkled up my nose. I looked like a covergirl, or something. This isn't me.  
  
It can't be.  
  
~*~  
  
Nope, definitely me.  
  
Ow.  
  
~*~  
  
Jumping into shallow pool of water? Very stupid.  
  
Don't attempt this at home, folks.  
  
Red and Blondie were dragging me to - you guessed it - The Council of Elrond. In Rivendell.  
  
Plus side? Elves. I like Elves.  
  
Minus side? Mary-Sues. I don't like Mary-Sues.  
  
I did, however, like my clothes. I had my steel-toed boots, which I don't leave home without, a long black tunic, leggings, and hooded cloak. I had the cloak hood pulled up. What? You think I wanted to be seen with Perfect and Perfecter?  
  
OK, their names are Leilani and Mitanna.  
  
Or so they said.  
  
Yeah, right.  
  
~*~  
  
Rivendell is a very pretty place. The way it looks in the movies and the way Tolkein describes it in the books..no justice at all. It's gorgeous.  
  
And there was lots and lots of eye candy.  
  
Have I mentioned I like Elves? Oh, yes. Elves are very pretty.  
  
We entered through the arched gates and were immediatlely approached by a pair of dark-haired, grey-eyed Elves who looked exactly alike, and their beautiful, golden-haired companion.  
  
OK, so the sons of Elrond, and maybe that's..Glorfindel?  
  
Wow, Tolkein was right. He is beautiful.  
  
Leilanni leaned over to whisper to Mitanna. "Who are they? Where's Elrond?"  
  
I smirked.  
  
This was gonna be good.  
  
~*~  
  
"Halt!" called one of the twins -  
  
Which one? What do you mean, which one? Didn't I tell you they looked exactly alike?  
  
I thought so. Now shut up and let me finish.  
  
Mary-Sue #'s 1 and 2 froze. I leaned up against the wall and yawned. Damn, but I was tired.  
  
"What is your business in Imladris?" Demanded the other twin.  
  
The two twits exchanged confused glances. Great, just great. They didn't even know what Imladris was.  
  
It would have been great watching them humilate themselves, but if they got their asses kicked, I probably would've too.  
  
"We are but weary travelers, my Lord, traveling here on a quest of the gravest importance," I told him, pressing a hand over my heart and bowing.  
  
Take that, Mrs. Johns. And you said I had no grasp of the language.  
  
They still looked a little wary of us. "What is this quest you speak of?" asked the really pretty blonde.  
  
"I fear it can only be spoken of with one of your number, whom are fathers bade us go to. Know you of Lord Elrond?"  
  
Take that, Mr. Pavinski. And you said I couldn't act. That's what you get for not letting me be Juliet.  
  
The twins exchanged a look. I bet Dumb and Dumber still didn't know who they were.  
  
Of course not. The twin sons of Elrond aren't even MENTIONED in the movies.  
  
"How do you know of our father?" one of them asked.  
  
"Our fathers sent us, saying that our skills were needed. We can speak of it only to him, as are our orders."  
  
"You speak as though you're a warrior," the other one said.  
  
I shrugged, and leaned up against the wall. I was getting sick of this. "Hey, what you see is what you get."  
  
They stared blankly.  
  
I sighed. "We need to talk to your father. Please?"  
  
~*~  
  
I don't think the cuties liked me.  
  
Pity. They were studly.  
  
~*~  
  
Well, we got in to see their dad. Ooh, Elrond pretty too.  
  
Yum.  
  
~*~ 


	2. Elrond, Twit One, Twit Two, And Swishy H...

Title - Elves, Hobbits, & Mary-Sues, Oh My  
  
Author - Paige Darke  
  
Rating - PG-13  
  
Disclaimer - Not mine. I don't even particularly want them. Too much stress.  
  
Distribution - Ask, and ye shall receive. Really, I'm flattered.  
  
Summary - A teenage girl is dropped into Middle-Earth. She finds herself the prisoner of a pair of Mary-Sues, with a complete lack of modern conveniences, reading material in ENGLISH, and everything she knows. And she most DEFINITELY does NOT want to be there.  
  
Unfortunately, Elrond not impressed with us. Or maybe it was them. He kept givin' me some mighty funny looks.  
  
Course that might have been because I was singing 'Unwell' - y'know, that kickass Matchbox 20 song - and twiddling my thumbs while staring around the room like I didn't know where I was.  
  
Nah. Couldn't possibly be that.  
  
~*~  
  
"What is your business here?" asked the pretty Elf-Lord.  
  
Mitanna - the blonde one - gave him her best smile and curtsey. "We are but weary travelers, my Lord, sent by our fathers on a quest of gravest importance."  
  
Leilanni also stepped forward. "We are from the Hidden Lands, beyond the shadows of Mordor. It has been decide that we can no longer hide ourselves away from this world, and must help defeat the darkness that has fallen."  
  
"That is why we have come. My name is Mitanna, of the House of the Golden Star, and this is my dearest friend, Leilanni of the House of the Silver Moon."  
  
One of the twins turned to look at me. "And what of your companion?"  
  
Huh? Me? What the hell do I have to do with this?  
  
~*~  
  
And that's what you GET for daydreaming during important meetings.  
  
Shame on me. Shame.  
  
~*~  
  
Leilanni was glaring at me. Yeah, screw you too, bitch.  
  
"Her?" Mitanna squeaked.  
  
No, dumbass, the OTHER companion you didn't introduce.  
  
~*~  
  
No, there was only the three of us. Go look up the word sarcastic in the dictionary, will you?  
  
Now stop interrupting.  
  
~*~  
  
Maybe the blonde didn't come from a bottle. Go figure.  
  
Leilanni elbowed her slightly ditzy companion and went back to fawning at the Lord of Rivendell. "She is Kayli, of the fallen House of the Black Rose, and our hand-maiden."  
  
~*~  
  
Hand-maiden, my ass. If they thought I was going to do their bidding, they had another thing coming.  
  
~*~  
  
They didn't seem to care that I even LOOKED like I didn't want to be their hand-maiden. One of the twins smiled at me.  
  
Oh, yum.  
  
~*~  
  
They showed us to our rooms. Glorfindel and one of the twins showed the Twits to their rooms, and the other twin - Elladan, as it turns out - showed me to mine.  
  
No where near Blondie and Red, thank God. Or the Valar, I guess.  
  
"Are you truly their hand-maiden?" Elladan asked.  
  
Uh, they WISH, studly.  
  
"Why ask?"  
  
Sounded much better. Not so rude.  
  
"You do not seem like one who would so easily obey orders."  
  
~*~  
  
Heh. He sounds like he knows me!  
  
Either that or he's been talking to Ray.  
  
~*~  
  
"I'm not, really..at all. I don't do orders."  
  
"Do they seek to tame you?"  
  
Huh? What the hell did that mean?  
  
"Tame me? What do you mean?" I think I had my mouth hanging open. I must've looked like a guppy.  
  
"You seem.." He stared for a second, then made a vague, swish-y gesture with one hand. "Wild."  
  
~*~  
  
Stop laughing. You're turning blue.  
  
And will you get up off the floor? It wasn't THAT funny!  
  
I can be wild!  
  
~*~  
  
"Me, wild? Uh, no. Just.." I made that same, weird, swish-y gesture. "Independent."  
  
Elladan echoed the gesture, grinning at me. "Independent?"  
  
I nodded. "Independent."  
  
"I don't think I've met a woman of such great independence."  
  
"Well, we're rare."  
  
Why did he keep grinning at me? And what, I mean, really, what did I know about the sons of Elrond, anyway? Except that they were twins and older than Arwen and probably prettier than her, too.  
  
~*~  
  
Uh, yeah, they were pretty. Hadn't I just SAID that?  
  
Dig the wax out of your ears. Jeez.  
  
~*~ 


	3. Architecture, Arwen, And Studly Ranger G...

Title - Elves, Hobbits, & Mary-Sues, Oh My  
  
Author - Paige Darke  
  
Rating - PG-13  
  
Disclaimer - Not mine. I don't even particularly want them. Too much stress.  
  
Distribution - Ask, and ye shall receive. Really, I'm flattered.  
  
Summary - A teenage girl is dropped into Middle-Earth. She finds herself the prisoner of a pair of Mary-Sues, with a complete lack of modern conveniences, reading material in ENGLISH, and everything she knows. And she most DEFINITELY does NOT want to be there.  
  
~*~  
  
I was glaring at Elladan, and he was grinning at me, like there was just no end in sight.  
  
Maybe he thought I was funny. Hell if I know.  
  
"So..."  
  
~*~  
  
Have I mentioned that I am absolutely freakin' useless at starting conversations?  
  
Ask somebody from work, once. Like Kristen, or Benji, or Barry..  
  
Yeah. You get it.  
  
~*~  
  
"Soo..." Elladan echoed.  
  
I take back everything I said about them being pretty. He's as irritating as hell.  
  
"Did you know it's rude to only make conversation by echoing what the other person says?"  
  
"Did you know it's rude to snap at your host?" he asked, grinning at me.  
  
"Grumble, grumble."  
  
He just grinned at me.  
  
Very irritating.  
  
~*~  
  
"Ho~ly wow," I muttered, looking around my new room.  
  
"Does it meet your approval?" Elladan asked.  
  
~*~  
  
For some reason, that boy seemed to take this almost Satanic delight in picking on me.  
  
Boy? Well, yeah, I know he was old enough to be my great-to-the-power-of- infinity grandfather, but still.he looked young.  
  
Yeah, and pretty. VERY pretty.  
  
~*~  
  
Elladan left a few minutes later, bowing low and making a few more mocking comments. That left me to look around my room - which was gorgeous, but even Elven architecture gets old after awhile - and then start wandering to entertain myself.  
  
So, yeah, I started wandering. I was really really REALLY hoping I wouldn't run into Bitchzilla and her evil twin.  
  
~*~  
  
Yeah, you guessed it.  
  
They were, of course, the first people I saw. They were standing in the courtyard, hanging all over..  
  
Dun, dun DUN!  
  
~*~  
  
Any guesses?  
  
Gimli? No! Don't be stupid!  
  
Aragorn and Legolas, yeah. I'm so glad you think you're funny.  
  
Somebody has to. But, hey, looks aren't everything.  
  
Now shut up and listen.  
  
~*~  
  
So, there they were, hanging all over Studly Ranger Guy and the hottest Elf ever, and over there was Studly Ranger Guy's MUCH prettier fiancée, looking like she was mentally eviscerating the ditzy blonde with a toothpick.  
  
Or maybe a spoon. Or Gimli's axe.  
  
And there was Leilanni, the redhead, giggling semi-demurely and blinking coquettishly. Mostly she looked like she had something in her eye.  
  
Oh! And the thrusting-out-of-the-chest, sometimes known as 'some people may have breasts here, but mine haven't come in the mail yet,' what is up with that? Why is that attractive?  
  
Not that Goldilocks looked attracted, mind you. He didn't look much of anything, actually. Just vaguely interested, but slightly distracted, as if that'll help.  
  
Hah! She'll still manage to sink her man-eatin' claws into you, buddy. Or..Elf-eating, really. And, y'know what's really scary? It really does look like she wants to eat him. It's really, really scary.  
  
And meanwhile, on the other side of the clearing, Studly Ranger Guy was trying to disentangle himself from the Evil Clutches of Bitchzilla. I think he was trying for a look of polite disinterest. Mostly, it looked like polite nausea.  
  
And Arwen..Man, she just looked pissed.  
  
Oh! And look who she was heading at.  
  
~*~  
  
And the thought that went through my mind at that point was something like this..  
  
~Please, god, let her not wanna talk to me, let her just walk right past, please god..~  
  
"Lady Kayli?"  
  
Oh, yeah, ok. So, god, is this payback for being an atheist all those years, or just not going to church?  
  
"My lady?"  
  
"Uh, hi. Yeah. That's me."  
  
She just stood there and glared at me. There was a long, long moment of extremely uncomfortable silence. She glared, and I fidgeted. Then she glared across the courtyard, at Mitanna.  
  
"Um, okay, so...I'm assuming the guy the vapid blonde is hanging all over is your Man?"  
  
Not that I didn't already know the answer to that, but hey...probably not a good idea to advertise that fact.  
  
Arwen glanced back at me, then went back to glaring at Mitanna. "Yes. Aragorn and I betrothed."  
  
I winced. "Ouch."  
  
She didn't answer, just glared. Apparently, Elves can't get frown lines.  
  
"Um..just so you know, I really wouldn't object if you...maybe...disemboweled her with a knitting needle? I hear it can be done."  
  
~*~  
  
Hm..Maybe I should've started smaller. Maybe asked about the weather around these parts? Bringing up the potential disembowelment of rivals isn't the best conversation started, and I haven't made many friends that way.  
  
A couple..but, hey, Dee's weird.  
  
But, much to my relief, the Lady smiled at me.  
  
~*~  
  
OK, it's time to just...rant on the subject of Aragorn and Arwen. It was this great, doomed love, right? And they way Tolkien describes her in the books does no justice whatsoever. This lady is gorgeous, alright? She's beautiful. When she frowns, you want to do everything in your power to make her smile. When she smiles, you want to fall down and worship, because it lights up the whole world.  
  
And, yeah, I like guys. Legolas is still my favorite Elven studmuffin, though Elladan and Elrohir are quickly gaining in popularity. It's beyond physical beauty and way past attraction. I wasn't attracted to Arwen, not like that. It's just..damn, she was pretty.  
  
And I don't understand why anybody, even somebody as vacant as those two, would think that this great and powerful man, this hero, would throw over somebody as beautiful and wise as Arwen Undomiel for a slow-witted, mediocre vapid blonde drone. Even IF she's apparently served more than McDonald's.  
  
OK, I'm done.  
  
~*~  
  
So, once I was done gawping like an idiot, I managed to smile back, and she turned her head back to watch her future hubby and Ditz Girl. "Yes, thank you. I shall keep that in mind."  
  
I shrugged. "Hey, it was a suggestion."  
  
Elladan and Elrohir suddenly appeared beside us. They, too, were glaring across the courtyard. Mitanna was not making many friends. But, hell, like I care. If Arwen wouldn't kill her, maybe one of her brothers would.  
  
"Vile women," muttered the one to the right. "All they did on the way to their quarters was talk about themselves."  
  
Ah, that must be Elrohir. Poor guy, having to show those two all the way down a hallway.  
  
~*~  
  
Hey, that may have sounded sarcastic, but it was said with the utmost sincerity. I pity anyone left alone with those two for an extended period of time.  
  
~*~  
  
Said twin turned to me. "My lady, you were their traveling companion for a while, yes?"  
  
Sure, I suppose a day and a half counts as a while. "Yes, why?"  
  
"Have you any idea what you've done to offend them?"  
  
Gee, there's a toughy. "Uh..breathed at the wrong moment? Blocked their light? Existed in their exalted presences?"  
  
Elrohir grimaced. "That bad?"  
  
"Worse, gorgeous."  
  
"Gorgeous? How come HE gets called gorgeous? Aren't I gorgeous?"  
  
This from the twin on the left, which I was assuming to be Elladan. Since he was giving me shit, it was pretty obvious that it WAS Elladan. Elrohir struck me as slightly more serious.  
  
I rolled my eyes at him. "Of course you're gorgeous, you two look exactly alike. Why wouldn't YOU be gorgeous?"  
  
Arwen laughed. And again, with the gawping. Yeah. "He's just fishing for compliments. Most of the females here oblige him. Perhaps you will present more of a challenge."  
  
I made a face. She could bet her Elven ass I'd be a challenge. "Uh, sorry, honey, but I'm not here to stroke your ego."  
  
He grinned and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "Perhaps you'd stroke something else, then?" And waggled his eyebrows at me.  
  
It was so perverted, I couldn't help laughing. 


	4. Welcome To The Present Tense

Title - Elves, Hobbits, & Mary-Sues, Oh My  
  
Author - Paige Darke  
  
Rating - PG-13  
  
Disclaimer - Not mine. I don't even particularly want them. Too much stress.  
  
Distribution - Ask, and ye shall receive. Really, I'm flattered.  
  
Summary - A teenage girl is dropped into Middle-Earth. She finds herself the prisoner of a pair of Mary-Sues, with a complete lack of modern conveniences, reading material in ENGLISH, and everything she knows. And she most DEFINITELY does NOT want to be there.  
  
~*~  
  
Welcome to the Council of Elrond. Now, if you'd just come and take your seat, the meeting will start in just a moment. Perhaps you would like to take the time beforehand to gawk at all the extremely pretty blondes?  
  
Uh, wow. All Elves are blonde, did you know that? Elrond and his family must get the dark hair from their human blood, because I have yet to see another Elf without blonde or silver hair.  
  
~*~  
  
But, anyway, back to the big meeting. Aragorn and Legolas were there, sitting with their own people, or whatever. Elladan and Elrohir sat on either side of Elrond. Gandalf and Frodo were at one end. And Boromir and Gimli were there, too, but I wasn't suppose to know who they were yet.  
  
~*~  
  
And that's what brings us to...more or less now.  
  
~*~  
  
Elrond says they whole thing about doom, and the Ring has to be destroyed, and that one of them has to do it. Boromir says how it would be a great gift to be used against the enemy, and then Leilani and Mitanna start to glare at him. Aragorn snaps back at Boromir, Boromir snaps at Aragorn, Legolas leaps to Aragorn's defense, yada yada yada. I tuned out for a while.  
  
~*~  
  
You'd think I'd learn my lesson, wouldn't you?  
  
~*~  
  
Next thing I heard:  
  
"Have you not heard Lord Elrond? The Ring must be destroyed."  
  
Oh, yeah, studly. You tell 'em.  
  
"Oh, and I suppose you think you're the one to do it?" Gimli hollers back.  
  
And cue the brawl. Dwarves start yelling, Gandalf gets into an argument with one of the pretty blondes (I think it's actually Glorfindel) Legolas is holding back his companions, and the men get into an argument with whoever'll listen, which makes Gandalf jump up and scurry over there. Aragorn starts rubbing his temples. Elrond looks pissy. Elladan and Elrohir leap to Aragorn's defense over...something.  
  
"I will take it!"  
  
Continued pandemonium. Makes me wish I had a whistle, just so I could help out a little.  
  
He tries again. "I will take it!" Silence. Frodo takes it as a good sign, and continues. "I will take the Ring to Mordor." Another long pause. "Though I do not know the way."  
  
Gandalf walks over to Frodo, puts his hand on his shoulder. "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, for as long as it is yours to bear."  
  
"If by my life, or death, I can protect you, I will." Aragorn knelt in front of Frodo. "You have my sword."  
  
"And my bow."  
  
Cue Gimli. "And my axe."  
  
Legolas does not look happy. Poor baby.  
  
I suddenly have a very, very bad feeling about this.  
  
Boromir steps forward. "You carry the fate of us all, little one. If this is truly the will of the council, Gondor will see it done."  
  
Good ol' Boromir. The Twits might not like him, but I do.  
  
Sam bursts out of the bushes. "Hey, now, Mr. Frodo's not goin' anywhere with out me."  
  
Elrond frowned. "Indeed, it is hardly possible to separate the two of you."  
  
"Oi, we're comin' to!" Merry and Pippin come running out to stand with Frodo. "You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!"  
  
Elrond glares at them.  
  
Leilanni and Mitanna stand up. Leilanni grabs my arm and hauls me up with her. Ah, yes, this would be that bad feeling.  
  
"Besides, you need people of intelligence on this mission...quest...thing!" God, Hobbits are so damn cute.  
  
"Well, that rules you out, Pip."  
  
The Twits step forward, dragging me with them. "We, the Ladies of the Hidden Lands, wish to add our skills as well."  
  
Skills? What skills? I don't know about THEM, but I don't HAVE any skills that would be useful on this trip.  
  
Elrond smiles. It's disturbing. "Very well. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring."  
  
I resist the urge to find a knife and slash my wrists.  
  
"Great!" says Pippin. So young. So innocent. "Where are we going?"  
  
"Hell," I mutter. Legolas gives me a LOOK.  
  
~*~  
  
A few hours later, I'm wandering around the Last Homely House, investigating the various nooks and crannies, when Elladan and Elrohir manage to catch up with me.  
  
"Kayli! Are you INSANE?" Ah, that must be Ellladan.  
  
"Oh, hey, I was looking for you two." I smile at them. "I really need your help."  
  
~*~  
  
Can I fight?  
  
Well, no. Why do you think I was looking for the twins?  
  
~*~  
  
"You want us to teach you to fight?"  
  
Elrohir looks fairly incredulous. I can't really blame him. Elladan and Arwen did as well.  
  
"Yeah, look, just enough so that I can defend myself."  
  
"Defend yourself from what?"  
  
Oh, new voice. I spin around, about to panic. Oh, it's Glorfindel. Pheew. That's a relief.  
  
"Um..." I stutter a minute. I am NOT a good liar. "Just... y'know, the average, run of the mill bad guys. Orcs, goblins, trolls, other baddies."  
  
"Like Leilanni and Mitanna," he says, and raises an eyebrow at me.  
  
"Them, too."  
  
"Do you truly think they would attempt to do you harm?" he asked.  
  
Elladan and Elrohir exchanged disbelieving looks. "Glorfindel, did you WATCH them last night, at dinner?"  
  
Arwen made a quiet growling noise.  
  
~FLASHBACK~  
  
When we were all sitting down to dinner, last night, Leilanni was crawling all over Legolas, who looked absolutely desperate to get away, and Mitanna was trying to talk to Aragorn, who only had eyes for Arwen.  
  
And Arwen was attempting to glare holes in Mitanna.  
  
Meanwhile, I was stuck between Boromir, who looked uncomfortable, and Elladan, who was greatly enjoying the show.  
  
"Should we help him?" This from Elrohir, who was on the other side of his brother.  
  
"Nah, he's a all grown up, he can take care of himself." Elladan took another long drink of wine.  
  
Boromir shifted uncomfortably. When one of the silver haired Elves leaned over to talk to him, I could've sworn I saw his shoulder twitch.  
  
I winced as Leilanni laughed at something Legolas said, very loudly, right in his pointed little ear. He winced too. "Oh, that's simply delightful! Why, our handmaiden, Kayli..."  
  
I tuned her out after that. Whatever she was gonna say, it was bullshit. .  
  
Boromir looked at me. "You are their...handmaiden."  
  
Elladan snorted into his wine. "Not likely."  
  
I smiled at him. "Why do you ask?"  
  
"You do not carry yourself as a servant does. Your head is always held high and you carry yourself with pride. I have never seen a servant who moved so," he explained.  
  
I kind of stared at him for a second. "No, I'm not their handmaiden. They probably think it makes them look good."  
  
Mitanna turned and glared at me, her hand tightening on her fork. Elladan laid his hand on my arm, his body tensing, ready to defend me if necessary. Well, that was sweet of him. Instead, she just huffed and went back to being ignored by Aragorn.  
  
"Vile women."  
  
Gotta agree with ya there, Elrohir.  
  
~END FLASHBACK~  
  
"Yes," I tell Glorfindel suddenly. "Yes, I think they will do everything they can to hurt me if I try to step in their way."  
  
"So how do you know you'll get in their way?" Elladan asks.  
  
I shrug. "It's a skill. I'm always in somebody's way."  
  
Glorfindel nods at the twins. "I believe you should teach her. 'Twould do you two a lesson in patience that is needed, as well."  
  
I grin at him. "Thanks, my Lord."  
  
He nods. "Learn well. You will need it."  
  
TBC... 


	5. MiddleEarth Presents 'The Birds'

I would like to thank all my kind reviewers. I'm too lazy to look up your names right now, but I'll do something about that next chapter.  
  
~*~  
  
Chapter 5  
  
Wanna know something? I suck. I can't hold a sword to save my life. Elrohir's getting frustrated, and Elladan's out and out pissed off  
  
Arwen, bless her heart, is trying her damnedest to be soothing. Glorfindel is trying not to laugh.  
  
Finally, I throw the sword down and glare at the twin across from me. I think it's Elrohir. I can't tell, though, they switched their braids on me. "I quit, ok? This just isn't me."  
  
Glorfindel sighs and stands. "You must. Otherwise, you will allow Leilanni and Mitanna their free rein throughout this Middle-Earth, and who knows what damage they shall cause? Perhaps it is your purpose to fight their evil designs."  
  
I wonder for a moment if all Elves talk so pretty, then I shake myself back to reality. "I can't even hold the damn thing right."  
  
Arwen comes up and puts her arm around my shoulders. "'Tis only your first lesson. It takes many to master the sword. Sometimes centuries."  
  
"I don't HAVE centuries. I have weeks. Two of them. Short little weeks." I run a hand through my hair and make a face. "Dammit, I'm whining again." I bend down and pick up the sword. "OK, let's try this again."  
  
~*~  
  
Two weeks of nearly constant practice later, I can almost disarm one of the twins if I catch them exactly the right way. Almost. There's a gash on my upper arm that's going to scar, and Glorfindel's ready to start bragging about how good I've gotten. We did, however, give up on the sword. 'It's not my weapon,' is what Glorfindel said, and the twins agreed.  
  
Now I'm learning knives. And I'm GOOD, that's the thing that surprises me the most. Like I said, I can almost disarm the twins, and since they're two beings with centuries more weapons practice than I'll ever have, I'm actually kind of proud of that fact.  
  
But we're leaving. I just finished packing my little bag, and I had my spiffy dark cloak. Aragorn arranged to get me a staff so I wouldn't be completely unarmed. I think they don't trust me with sharp objects.  
  
I think Mitanna might have told them that. I mean, c'mon, hair grows back, right?  
  
The clothes are new. Arwen had arranged for them, since my other clothes had been pretty much ruined by my little practice sessions with the twins. I had a loose fitting white shirt, one of those ones with the lace-up collar usually seen on pirates. It came under a sort of leather vest with a belt and a pair of soft brown leggings and knee-high boots. I looked spiffy, like a Rangerly native.  
  
I walk out towards the gate, and the Twins are waiting for me, with Arwen. Arwen looks very sad, and I think I know why. Aragorn just told her to get lost.  
  
~*~  
  
OK, I know he didn't actually tell her to get lost, he wants her to leave because he loves her so much and wants her to live forever. But that's basically saying she should get lost because he's such a loser.  
  
And a mortal loser to boot. I bet her dad would agree.  
  
~*~  
  
Anyway. I grin at them, and Elladan pulls me into a fond embrace.  
  
~God, I'm starting to talk like these damn Elves...~  
  
"We've got a present for you, young one," Elladan says, and holds up a pair of long-bladed, beautifully crafted knives.  
  
Elrohir smiles. "They are of Elven make, nearly weightless and perfectly balanced. They will aid you greatly in your coming battles."  
  
I smile and take them, tucking them into the tops of my boots. That DOES explain why Arwen got me the tall boots. "Did you tell anybody else you were getting me knives?"  
  
The two of them kind of jump and exchange guilty glances. "Um...no."  
  
"Well, Glorfindel knows."  
  
"Well, yes, but it WAS his idea."  
  
"We didn't tell Father, though. Or Aragorn."  
  
"They wouldn't understand."  
  
"Perhaps they could be a surprise for your rather vile companions."  
  
I blinked at them, then looked at Arwen. "Did you follow that?"  
  
Arwen laughs at that. It's beautiful, like the tolling of bells. With someone as stunning as she, how can Aragorn bear to be parted from her?  
  
"Yes, I did, but it takes much practice." She takes my hands and draws me forward. "I have a gift for you, as well, my Lady." She reaches into her sleeve and pulls out a pair of elaborate, beautifully carved, ivory...  
  
Knitting needles.  
  
I can't help but laugh, and I hug her. "Thank you, my Lady."  
  
She grins at me, this huge, all-out expression of pleasure. "Consider them payment for what you did to Mitanna."  
  
Elladan lets out a hoot of laughter. Elrohir tries to look disapproving.  
  
"Did you really cut off her hair? With her own dagger?" Elladan asks, grinning at me.  
  
"Not ALL of it."  
  
~  
  
They escort me to the gates, the only friends I have in this world, and of course I'm leaving them behind. Life just sucks sometimes, you know?  
  
Arwen gives me another hug, and then Elladan pulls me close. "Be careful, little one."  
  
"Little one?" I beg your pardon?  
  
Elladan just looks at me, very seriously. I think I like it better when he's being the teasing flirt. "I apologize, but you know the meaning for my warning. You must watch your back."  
  
I smile and kiss his cheek. "I'm not worried about my back. If they kill me, they're gonna want me to see it coming."  
  
Elrohir hisses. "Vile women." He says that a lot, have you noticed? If only it weren't so true.  
  
I smile and hug him too. "I'll be careful. I promise."  
  
~  
  
We've been on the road, oh, more or less a week. Aragorn's been leading, being all studly, manly Ranger guy. Boromir's angsting more than the entire cast of Dawson's Creek, and I swear his shoulder twitches every time Legolas comes within ten feet of him. He's been teaching Merry and Pippin how to fight using the little swords Aragorn gave them, although they all call him Strider, except Frodo. I heard that tale from Sam.  
  
Gandalf's being all wise and wizardly, carrying his staff and wearing a pointy hat. Every time I look at it, I feel like giggling and yelling "Pointy hat trick!" Which just goes to show what I did when I was back home.  
  
Merry and Pippin are learning sword-fighting from Boromir. Merry's good. Pippin's huggable. Sam's fussing over Frodo. Frodo's angsting only slightly less the Boromir. Gimli's being...Dwarvish, is what I would call it. He's honorable, brave, and very honest. I like him, actually.  
  
And then there's Legolas, who is just plain ol' studly. He's gorgeous, moving or standing still. When he practices archery or when he gives Gimli exasperated looks.  
  
And Leilanni's noticed it too. She's permanently attached to his side. He's very polite, but does not go out of his way to encourage her. Of course, he hasn't said word one to me, so I'm not gonna get my hopes about him tossing her off Caradhras and throwing himself into my arms.  
  
Mitanna, however, very rarely gets the occasion to hotglue herself to Aragorn. I think he does it on purpose.  
  
And me? Well, every one pretty much tunes me out. I'm quiet, most of the time. The only people I've had real conversations with are Boromir, Gimli, and Pippin, who goes out of his way to be nice to everybody. Not Aragorn- nice, 'I'm-the-leader-so-I'm-nice-and-polite-to-everybody-even-you' nice, but genuine 'I-honestly-just-like-everybody-'cause-I'm-young-innocent-and- huggable' Pippin-nice. Merry's actually the same way. And Sam, but those two spend most of their time close to Frodo.  
  
And Pippin-nice is the reason Boromir is so damn protective of the Hobbits. They're just too damn cute.  
  
~  
  
So we come to the rocky hill-place where we're gonna get to experience our cheap reenactment of 'The Birds.' Frodo and Sam settle down to cook lunch. Boromir and the Hobbits start their little sword-fighting instructional. Legolas puts some distance in between himself and Leilanni, who's trying to be multi-talented and help with the cooking. Sam keeps giving her irritated looks, and Frodo tries to smile, but mostly it looks like a grimace of pain.  
  
Aragorn is smoking his pipe, putting in little comments towards the lesson. Mitanna's sitting next to him, staring at him. I notice for the first time that he's wearing Arwen's pendant. Me, I'm sitting off to the side, trying to stay out of everybody's way.  
  
Aragorn tells the Hobbits to move their feet. Boromir gets in a shot that cuts Pippin's hand. Boromir drops his sword, rushing forward to apologize. I bite back a giggle as Pippin kicks him in the shin and the two of them take him down. Then I outright laugh when Aragorn goes over to break it up and the tackle him to the ground.  
  
Legolas glances at me. OK, I realize this isn't your typical fangirl urge, but every time he looks at me, I feel like I should just turn around and run the other way.  
  
And I realize, as I think this, that there are several girl back on Earth – as opposed to Middle-Earth – who would take full advantage of this situation and hit on him until he either gave in or killed them. But, see, I could never do that. I'm too shy.  
  
~HA! More cheap flashback effects!~  
  
About a month and a half ago, I went out to dinner with some of my friends. Benji, who was just desperate to get away from her hellions – she was a destined single-child parent with two stepkids and one of her own, all with in four years of each other. Kristen, who didn't wanna sit at home while her husband was at work. Barry, who had a good home life but was just bored. Kari, who didn't have such a good homelife, and both of whom were too young to go to a bar. Come to think of it, so am I, for another two months. Matt, the doomed only guy, and Molly, who needed a break from planning the wedding. We were just sitting around, having a good meal and some good conversation.  
  
Benji leaned over the table to talk to me. "You know why you don't date, Kay?"  
  
"Well, yeah, but I'm sure you're going to tell me your enlightened reasoning for it."  
  
Benji shook her head. I love her to death, but once she gets on a topic, she rides it until it's dead. And then she resurrects it for further conversational pain. "You need to actually notice the guys who hit on you."  
  
Matt felt the need to join the conversation. "Like that guy a few minutes ago."  
  
I looked around in confusion. "There was a guy? What guy? Where was I when there was a guy?"  
  
"Oooh, she's a poet," Barry said. I think she was mocking me. I glared at her.  
  
"You completely ignored him. I think that you try to avoid dating so you don't have to talk to anybody," Kristen said. Benji nodded her agreement.  
  
"I talk to people! I talk to you guys all the time!"  
  
"But no guys." That was from Molly. Everybody ganged up on me that night.  
  
"What am I, chopped liver?" Matt asked.  
  
"No, you're her big brother," Kari said. "You don't count. I know why she avoids people. She's shy."  
  
I groaned. "Yes, I'm shy, OK? Shut up."  
  
Kristen laughed at me. "I can't wait until fate drops your perfect guy in your lap!"  
  
~End with more cheap flashback effects!~  
  
I really, really should've knocked on wood after that. I think she jinxed me.  
  
No, that's just me being arrogant and presumptious. Legolas is not my perfect guy. Well, yeah, he'd be good for me, but just about anybody would be. I have issues like you wouldn't believe.  
  
I check back into reality when I hear Sam ask what that is, and Gimli say it's just a wisp of cloud.  
  
"It's moving fast, against the wind," Boromir points out.  
  
Legolas gives Gimli a 'so there!' look. "Crebain from Dunland!"  
  
Aragorn yells out from my right. "Hide!"  
  
Sam douses the fire, everyone grabs their gear rolls under rocks and bushes. Poor Twits looked completely out of their league.  
  
I grin at them. Mitanna glares at me.  
  
"The passage south is being watched," Gandalf says. "We must take the path of Caradhras."  
  
I hate heights.  
  
TBC... 


	6. Interlude Pippin

Many thanks to –  
  
Sylvia Viridian – I actually don't know if this is gonna be a Legomance, actually. I'm leaning that way, but I may throw it all over and have her fall for Boromir. Or maybe Gimli.  
  
Catherine Maria – I didn't know how to put it in! I tried, but she wouldn't tell me when it happened!  
  
Becca – Thanks! You're wonderful!  
  
Nithke – I hope you enjoy the rest, and I thank you deeply for your kind words!  
  
Andrew Joshua Talon – Aw, thanks! And you did get more of Glorfindel!  
  
Is that everybody? I hope so! If I missed you, let me know, and I'll put it in next time I update, I promise!  
  
~  
  
Interlude – Pippin  
  
Now, don't get me wrong. I know I'm not the smartest person in the company. Nine Hells, sometimes I think Bill is smarter than I am, and by Bill I mean the pony.  
  
Not that there's any other Bill.  
  
But, anyway. As I was saying. I might not be the smartest, but even I see something wrong with this picture. Our lady companions, friendly, beautiful, powerful, and wise as they may be, I don't trust them as far as I can throw them. And since I'm half their size, that's saying quite a bit.  
  
They ruffle my hair. See, I don't mind it so much when Boromir does it, or Aragorn, but when those...ladies of questionable breeding do it, I want to remove one of their hands with my teeth. Boromir does it out of fondness, he'd hug us, but it's a long way to bend down. I understand that. Boromir's fond and protective and our friend. They do it out of condescension. They don't like us. They don't want to protect us. They wouldn't give their lives for us. They wouldn't risk breaking a nail for us.  
  
But their companion, that Kayli, there's where the difference lies. She doesn't treat us with condescension. I've talked to her. She's nice and funny, and she tells wonderful stories, and she doesn't like them very much. And she doesn't ruffle my hair.  
  
I think. Well, I know she doesn't ruffle my hair. But, on the other stuff, please remember, she's awfully quiet, and she only talks when someone approaches her, and she shuts up if she sees Strider or Legolas or Gandalf. She's comfortable around us Hobbits, and Boromir and Gimli and I think Bill, not that a pony would make her uncomfortable, but she avoids Gandalf and she only talks to Aragorn when he talks to her first and she steps around Legolas like she's afraid he's going to attack without warning.  
  
I approach her now. She's hanging back in the company, her companions hanging all over Aragorn. Well, the blonde is. The redhead is trying to impress our fair Elven companion. I wish her luck. He tolerates her, and barely, at that. Maybe I should learn their names.  
  
However, while I may not be the smartest of our companions, I am not as stupid as a rock, so I have seen the way Kayli watches everyone around her. Kind of like she knows what's going to happen, or like nothing can surprise her. Like she's seen everything, and all of it was bad.  
  
She's at the back of the line, behind Boromir and Legolas and his irritating shadow. Legolas steps past Boromir, and I watch his shoulder twitch. Kayli catches my eye, and grins at me. She saw it too. Legolas drops a wink at me and heads towards the head of the line, the redhead on his heels. He does it on purpose, I know he does. He told Merry and I as much yesterday, after the incident with those bloody birds.  
  
I think that those two are evil. The blonde and the redhead. I think that they're evil. Maybe they're after Frodo's ring, or just after power, the royal kind. That would explain why they're chasing Legolas and Aragorn, after all. Aragorn's going to be a king, and Legolas is a prince of his realm, not that it means so much when your father's going to live forever.  
  
But I don't think Kayli is. Why, she sheared the one girl nearly bald when she insulted her honor. She's funny, and smart, and I honestly think that she would die protecting us, if she had to. I mean, I don't think she'd like the idea, but I think she'd do it. Maybe she's here to stop those other two in their evil designs.  
  
I don't know. Thinking this much makes me hungry. I don't think I'll talk to her right now. I'll see if Sam has any more apples, and put it out of my mind. For now. But I'll keep on watching. And even though I'm not smart, I'll figure her out. Because, you know, I think she could use a friend. 


	7. Uncomfortable Conversations, Like A Hear...

Chapter 6  
  
~  
  
Brr. It's so cold up here, I think my teeth are frozen together. It's at least ten below. And I would know, being a Minnesotan, born and bred.  
  
Hey, I didn't do it on purpose. And it really sucks, since I don't like snow. The cold's alright, but snow sucks.  
  
And here I am, wrapped as deep as I can get into my cloak and not come out the other side, listening to Boromir quietly talk to Merry and Pippin. Legolas walks by me, on the snow, which, all fangirl urges aside, makes me want to knock him off the mountain.  
  
Just then, Frodo slips, tumbling down the slope. Aragorn catches him, pulls him to his feet, and I watch in dismay as Boromir picks up the ring.  
  
Crap. Can't interfere, can't interfere, can't interfere. Must let it play out. This is not my story. Boromir is not your friend. He is going to die and you cannot stop it.  
  
Argh! Fuck! You know what? Fuck it. I can't interfere, but I really, really, really want to. I don't want to take any of the glory from Frodo or Sam or Aragorn or any of the others, but I really, really want to save Boromir. Because he really is my friend.  
  
"Boromir," Aragorn says sharply, and I lay a hand on my friend's arm. ~Please, Boromir, give it back...~  
  
Boromir smiles nervously and hands the ring back to Frodo. "Take it, I care not," he says, and walks by, ruffling Frodo's hair as he goes. But it's obvious he does care, and it worries me. Because he is my friend.  
  
Maybe if I repeat it long enough I'll convince myself that I can't interfere. Or maybe I'm trying to convince myself that I can.  
  
~  
  
I would pay money – the real stuff, not stuff I jacked out of my brother's many Monopoly games – to be in a Buffy fic. At least then I would be in Southern California, and it would be WARM. And I wouldn't have to worry about any of those pesky fangirl urges, since I don't want to glomp any of Buffy's male cast. No, not the female cast either. Gutterface.  
  
Ooh! Or maybe Forgotten Realms? Now Drizzt, there's somebody I could get in to. Maybe I just have a yen for Elves, dark or otherwise.  
  
But no, it's cold there, too. Forget it. I just can't win, can I?  
  
Hmm...maybe...  
  
Nope. No where else I would be. At least here I can sneak a glance up Legolas's tunic.  
  
Argh! Bad thoughts!  
  
Nice ass.  
  
~  
  
I should be deeply ashamed of myself. Deeply.  
  
I'm not, of course, but I really should be.  
  
But, anyway, back to the fact that it's really cold. We're further along the mountain, and it's snowing harder, and Legolas, lucky bastard, gets to walk on the snow, but that just puts him right out in the wind, so I'm not sure if I think he's lucky or not.  
  
Ah, Gandalf just started shaking his staff and yelling at Saruman's 'fell voice.'  
  
Ow! Hey! Rock!  
  
I duck further back into my cloak, dodge a rock, and nearly trip over Gimli. Poor Dwarf can barely see over the snow, but no one's trying to carry HIM. Of course, all the leather and metal he's wearing, he probably weighs more than any three of the Hobbits combined.  
  
Am I rambling? I am, aren't I?  
  
Leilanni and Mitanna prepare to step forward to help Aragorn make his big, leaderly decisions. Actually, that's what Mitanna was doing. I think Leilanni was just trying to sneak a glance up Legolas's tunic. I really can't fault her for that.  
  
God, I think my brain's freezing.  
  
"Instead of going over the mountain, let us go under it! Let us go through the Mines of Moria!"  
  
Ah, crap. I don't like caves any more than I like heights. Yes, I am a wimp.  
  
Gandalf goes very still for a moment, then he turns and looks at Frodo, who's half-buried in Aragorn's cloak. "Let the Ringbearer decide."  
  
Frodo looks uncomfortable, then squares his shoulders, as best he can when being carried. "Let us go through the mines."  
  
Gandalf immediately looks grim and foreboding. "So be it."  
  
Please no. Oh, I hate enclosed spaces, and I hate the dark, and anybody else remember that bridge?  
  
I am so screwed. God hates me. That's what it is.  
  
Damn.  
  
~  
  
"The walls of Moria!"  
  
Oh. Yay.  
  
"Dwarf doors are invisible when closed," Gimli explains, tapping the rock face with his axe.  
  
"Yes, Gimli," Gandalf calls back from the front. "Their own masters cannot find them if their secrets are forgotten."  
  
"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Legolas mutters from next to me.  
  
I hide a smile in the hood of my cloak. Boromir grins, then falls back to walk next to me once Legolas is out of earshot. Well, more or less out of earshot. With those Elves, who knows?  
  
"I see you have found something to occupy your time," he whispers, smirking at me.  
  
"What do you mean?" I whisper back. "Why are we whispering?"  
  
Boromir shrugs. I sit on a rock and he crouches next to me. "You have been watching the Elf for the last several days."  
  
I shrug, ducking my head to hide my embarrassment. "He's gorgeous. Sue me."  
  
He frowns at me. "I beg your pardon?"  
  
Oh, what I wouldn't give for a conversation with somebody who understood modern slang. "He's beautiful. I watch him because he's beautiful. Is that a problem?" I know I sound all rude and defensive, but I can't help it. That is why I do it.  
  
Boromir frowns at me. "I think it is more than that."  
  
"You think wrong."  
  
He just stares at me, for a long moment until I look away. "Do I?" He gets up and moves to join Aragorn. Legolas glances back at me, a small smile on his lips, and I know that he heard me. I glare at him, blushing, and then duck my head.  
  
OK, Earth, any time you wanna open up and swallow me is good with me.  
  
Meanwhile, up at the door, Gandalf plops down, having exhausted his supply of passwords. He's glaring at the door, like it's all the poor door's fault.  
  
"So what are we going to do now?" Pippin asks. Ah, sweet, innocent Pippin, he should know better.  
  
"Smash your head against them, Peregrin Took! And if that does not shatter them, and I am allowed some respite from foolish questions, I shall think of something else!"  
  
Pippin bows his head, looking ashamed. I reach out and touch his shoulder. "It's all right," I whisper. "He's just all cranky 'cause he can't figure it out."  
  
Pippin grins at me. I smile back and wander away. He and Merry start to throw rocks in the water. I wince. We all know what THAT'S gonna wake up.  
  
Mitanna wanders up to stand next to Gandalf, who has finally sat down in despair. "I once knew every spell in the tongues of Elves, Men, and Orcs." Oooh, that line was in the wrong place! I am SO writing Peter Jackson!  
  
If I ever get back to my world.  
  
Anyway, back to Red. She's smiling broadly, and I want to smash her face in. She's going to steal Frodo's line. Bitch. "It's a riddle! 'Speak friend and enter.' Do you see it, Leilanni?"  
  
Leilanni glides up next to her, looking serene and perfect. "Indeed! How clever! 'Tis the Elvish word for friend."  
  
"Mellon," Legolas says softly, and the doors swing open.  
  
I look at them and wince. I don't really like the dark either. Didn't I tell you I was a wimp?  
  
TBC... 


	8. Kayli, The Beatlemaniac

Chapter 7  
  
~  
  
We all very, very quietly creep inside. Gimli is bragging to Legolas just how great this joint is. Poor guy.  
  
"Soon, Master Elf, you will enjoy the famed hospitality of the Dwarves. Roaring fires, malt beer, ripe meat off the bone!"  
  
Legolas looks absolutely revolted. Probably not an Elf's idea of a good time. Or maybe it's the smell of this place, thick and heavy, almost solid. God knows it's making ME nauseous.  
  
"This is the home of my cousin Balin. And they call it a mine. A mine!"  
  
Mitanna catches sight of one of the dead Dwarves and turns a very interesting shade of chartreuse. It does nothing for her complexion. "This is no mine!" she exclaims, one hand pressing over her heart like she's about to swoon. "It is a tomb!"  
  
"We should never have come here," Boromir says, voice quietly authoritative. "We must make for the Gap of Rohan! Get out! Get out!"  
  
Everybody else runs. I follow behind, a little slower. Just then, the damn...tentacled...octopus, Kraken thing grabs Frodo.  
  
Watcher! It's a Watcher! A Watcher in the Water! I remember now!  
  
"Strider!" Sam yells. One of the giant tentacles flails off to one side, near Merry and Pippin, who seem to terrified to move. I swear, run over, and grab them both, dragging them back towards the mine. I leave Sam, hacking at the tentacle, and Aragorn, just the bestest Ranger ever, to save the day. I'm getting the huggable two out of danger's way.  
  
Besides, what else am I suppose to do? Rush out and single-handedly defend us all from the huge, many-armed water monster? With my stick?  
  
Yeah, that's what I thought.  
  
A few minutes later, everyone else rushes in. The gate collapses behind us, and Pippin attaches himself more firmly to the collar of my cloak. Merry clutches my hand.  
  
I realize they're not little kids. Hell, they're not even all that young. But sometimes, you just need a hug, or your hand held. It's just the way things are, no matter how old you are.  
  
Boromir comes over to check on us. He gives the Hobbits a reassuring smile, and Pippin manages to detach himself from my cloak and take my hand instead. Boromir touches my shoulder. "Are you well, Kayli?"  
  
I smile and nod, keeping the Hobbits close. They're not the only ones who need the comfort. "Yeah, I'll be fine."  
  
Boromir nods and steps away. Mitanna turns to me as Gandalf checks the surroundings with his staff. "We must be on our guard," the Wizard says. "There are older and fouler things in the dark places of this world than orcs."  
  
I give Mitanna a condescending smile. Yeah, we call them Mary Sues in my world, there Gandalf. I hope that bitch knows why I'm smiling.  
  
"And where were you during the battle, hand-maiden?" Mitanna asks, her voice ringing out impressively.  
  
Oh. Yay. "Staying out of the way, like someone who doesn't have the right kind of weapons to fight that..." I pause and look back at the door. "Thing."  
  
"We would've been fish food if she hadn't grabbed us," Merry suddenly pips up. "She grabbed us and hauled us back this way. I think she saved us."  
  
"And she covered us up when the rocks fell, so we wouldn't get hurt," Pippin adds. He gives Red a distrustful look. This may not be what he means to do, but the look clearly asks 'Where were you when the rocks were falling, beetch?'  
  
OK, the last part was just me. But if the shoe fits...  
  
Leilanni takes a step forward. Boromir steps in her way and glares.  
  
Aragorn leaps in to save the day. Surprise, surprise. "We must keep moving."  
  
Mitanna looks wounded. Leilanni glares at me like it's all my fault.  
  
We move on.  
  
~  
  
So, here we are, sitting on the steps, just hangin' out, while Gandalf tries to figure out where in the hell we are. I'm splitting an apple with Pippin, one of those dried ones from Sam's pack, which are actually pretty nasty. Aragorn is smoking, and I'm trying not to choke. Only years of eating out with my mom and stepdad after their bowling league keeps me from hacking up a lung. Then everybody at the table besides me, and Todd and Sherry, smoke. Eating out with my family is like sitting in a giant smoke cloud. So it was adequate training for this.  
  
And this is better! No...like, rat poison or jet fuel in THIS tobacco!  
  
In other news, Legolas has maneuvered his studly self into a place that Leilanni can't get at unless she's willing to punt a Hobbit off the cliff. If she didn't think it would be a mark against her, poor Merry would be a goner. Mitanna is all sulking, because Aragorn keeps shooting her down.  
  
Ah, blessed be true love. Arwen will be so happy I didn't get blood all over her knitting needles.  
  
Not that I probably won't have another opportunity.  
  
I half-listen to Frodo and Gandalf have that conversation about Gollum. Mostly, however, I am 'just spacin', as Benji or Kristen would put it.  
  
"What is that you sing?" Legolas asks suddenly.  
  
I look up. Everyone is staring at me. "I'm sorry? I was singing?"  
  
He nods.  
  
I shake my head. "I don't sing."  
  
"You just were," Boromir points out.  
  
I glare at him. "You're delusional."  
  
Pippin, this time. "It was pretty."  
  
Legolas hums a short piece of music. "That."  
  
I look at my shoes. God, way to go, Kay. Go out of your way to become more of a Mary-Sue than you already are. "It's called 'Yesterday.' I don't remember very many of the words."  
  
Dad would be so proud. His daughter, the Beatlemaniac. God.  
  
Gandalf stand up. "Ah, it is this way!"  
  
Merry looks so relieved I want to hug him. "He's remembered!"  
  
"No, but the air smells less foul this way! When in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose!"  
  
We're going to die, aren't we? Well, not everybody else, but me and Gandalf? Yeah, I think we're toast.  
  
Check please.  
  
~  
  
OK, so, in case you were wondering how I knew I wasn't supposed to survive my trip through the mines, I have something special for you.  
  
~Oh, come on, you know you've missed this!~  
  
I was trying to sleep, sandwiched between Boromir's area and Gimli's area. Mitanna had done everything but plop down on Aragorn's lap, and Leilanni practically had tried to shimmy into Legolas's blankets with him.  
  
The Elf had volunteered to keep watch. All night. So everybody else could...get their rest.  
  
Right.  
  
But anyway, I could hear the doofus twins muttering amongst themselves.  
  
"All we have to do is take her into the caves. She won't last a second against those things."  
  
Have I ever told you how much I hate stupid people? They were MINES. MINES, not caves. And they were orcs, not things.  
  
I mean, come on. If you're gonna invade somebody's universe, at least get the names of the bad guys right.  
  
"What if she survives?" Mitanna asked, sounding worried. "She seems like she knows stuff that we don't."  
  
Well, yeah. An amoeba knows stuff they don't.  
  
"Then we kill her ourselves. You honestly think she would be able to defend herself against the orcs AND us? All she has is that stick," Leilanni replied, trying to sound reassuring.  
  
Well, yeah, I had more than a stick, but THEY didn't know that, and I was trying not to whip those out until I absolutely had to. Someplace like...Amon Hen.  
  
Me? Interfere? Never. Absolutely not. Well....Maybe just a little.  
  
Just as I heard the idiot twins settling in, I caught some movement of shadow in the trees, and a glimmer of brilliant jewel eyes.  
  
Legolas. He had heard them! He knew!  
  
Maybe I'm not gonna die...  
  
~  
  
I am not, however, going to get my hopes up. I sighed and followed the rest of the Fellowship up the stairs.  
  
TBC... 


	9. Baby's First Battle, Oh, I'm So Proud!

Chapter 8  
  
~  
  
Despite what you may be thinking, I am not as crazy as I claim. If I am bored for extended periods of time, yes, I will hum or even sing the occasional Beatles or Matchbox 20. Or something even more disturbing. I have been known to avoid talking in its entirety for, at times, period of hours or even days. I am prone to fits of nervousness, and depression, and insomnia, and I can become a raging maniac for no apparent reason.  
  
Other than that, I'm almost normal.  
  
~  
  
As we climb the stairs, Legolas falls back beside me, and says, very quietly, "You're humming."  
  
Dammit. I really need to work on that. "Sorry."  
  
He smiles at me. I resist the urge to swoon. Why, oh WHY, aren't there guys this good-looking in my world? I'd pay money! Real money!  
  
Except, y'know, prostitution? Illegal.  
  
"Why is it you watch us?"  
  
I look back at him. Honestly, this is the longest conversation I've ever had with him. "Huh? What do you mean?"  
  
"You watch us. You watch all of us. I was merely wondering why." He stares at me, straight at me, like he can look into my soul, which is actually a highly uncomfortable sensation.  
  
I shrug uncomfortably, shifting my cloak over my shoulders. "I don't know that I did. I don't watch everybody. Just...some."  
  
"Like me?" he asks, and sounds amused. I blush. "I heard the compliment you paid me."  
  
I shrug, again. "Well, y'know, you Elves..."  
  
He laughs softly. "Aye, that is true."  
  
I make a face at him. "Oh, no ego in YOUR family."  
  
Legolas laughs again. "Oh, there is plenty of ego in my family! I am assured that you heard tales of my father from Elladan and Elrohir whilst we were in Imladris."  
  
I smirk and nod. "Oh, yeah. A couple from Bilbo and Glorfindel, as well." I glance at him. "And why is it you feel the need to bring up the fact that I think you're beautiful? I'm sure it's not the first time you've heard it, and you don't seem like the kind who needs your ego stroked. As for that, there are others among our company who would do that."  
  
Legolas actually winces. It's beautiful! He doesn't like her!  
  
"Ah, yes," he says, disdain practically dripping from his voice. "'Twas a curiosity, my lady, nothing more." He looks at me, and grins, a twinkle in his eye that forcibly reminds me of Elladan. Oh, crap. "Besides, you are most charming when you blush." And he moves past me, up to walk next to Aragorn.  
  
My face feels like it's on fire. Hate Elves so much.  
  
~  
  
"Behold," Gandalf says loudly, calling more light to his staff, "the Realm of the great Dwarven city of Dwarrowdelf."  
  
Ho-ly shit. It's beautiful. Gorgeous. An architectural marvel. Goddamn you, Tolkien, stop awing me already!  
  
"That's an eye opener, and no mistake," Sam says softly, obviously completely awed.  
  
Right there with ya, Samwise. It's so beautiful, and...and...yeah. I don't have any words for it, for what may actually be the first time in my life.  
  
Too bad things're gonna really suck later, huh?  
  
We cross across the whooole big thing, and Legolas sends me an amused glance over his shoulder. I stop singing. What is it with me and the Beatles today?  
  
Gimli suddenly lets out an anguished cry, and Gandalf calls after him. "Gimli! No!"  
  
We race in after him, and he's sobbing over the tomb of his cousin. Poor, poor Gimli. Would it be wrong to want to give him a hug?  
  
Yes, very wrong. Dwarves probably don't appreciate hugs.  
  
Gandalf takes the book from the dead Dwarf. I tune Gandalf out and simply look around the room, taking in the gorgeous architecture, the various dead people, and the rest of the Fellowship. A large bang distracts me from this, followed by another loud bang. Oh, crap. Pippin.  
  
The poor Hobbit was staring at the floor, fidgeting nervously, sending Gandalf fearful glances. Gandalf stalks over to him and grabs away his hat and staff. "Throw yourself in next time, Peregrin Took, & rid us of your stupidity!"  
  
Pippin ducks his head. I walk over to him and wrap an arm around his shoulder. He gives me a grateful look.  
  
Then the drums start. Legolas immediately whips out his bow. As does Leilanni. Oh, god, she's gonna wow us with her archery. Something inside me whimpers. Aragorn and Boromir run for the door. Boromir pokes his head out, and a bunch of arrows almost take it off.  
  
He pulls his head back in. "They have a cave troll," he tells us, like he's reporting the weather.  
  
Me, on the other hand...Let's just say it ain't pretty. Panic rarely is.  
  
I watch as Legolas tosses Boromir and Aragorn weapons, and they start to barricade the door. Mitanna draws her sword and pulls around to one edge of the room. It's sort of a flanking maneuver. Hah! I remember some of the technical terminology! Remind me to thank James...  
  
If I live through this. Which is really, really looking to not be a possibility.  
  
Aragorn pushes the Hobbits back to stand behind Gandalf. Boromir grabs my arm and pushes me back with them. "Guard the Hobbits, Kayli."  
  
I nod, and shepherd them back behind Gandalf, then stand ready with my...stick.  
  
No, I am NOT planning to use the knives. I'm saving them as a surprise, like Elrohir said. Preferably at Amon Hen.  
  
Am I planning on saving Boromir? I don't know yet. Give me a second.  
  
Or...A few more seconds. The Orcs are starting to break through the door. Aragorn, Legolas, & Leilanni open fire. Behind me, the Hobbits draw their short swords. I grip my staff tighter. The doors break open. My heart starts to pound. Before I know what's happening, the battle is joined.  
  
~  
  
There's a certain rhythm to a battle. Whatever weapon you use – knives, swords, bows, staves, whatever – you have to find the rhythm. If you don't find it, you can't fight, and you're dead.  
  
Bless you, Eru, or whichever Vala is responsible for the fact that I have found the rhythm in my staff. Bless you.  
  
I spin away from the sword of one and hit another over the head with my staff. It turns, snarling, and I smack it in the face. Once, twice, and it goes down. Pippin's behind me. He runs the one I ducked through. The blade passes through it's thigh, and it screams. I crack it upside the head and it goes down like a bag of rocks. Pippin stabs it in the heart, then ducks over and finishes off the other one.  
  
Staves aren't usually lethal. But Pippin's little sword is. We make a good combination.  
  
Pippin and I get separated, and he runs over to Merry. I poke another orc in the stomach, and it doubles over, then I crash my staff over his head.  
  
Suddenly, a hand grabs my arm and whips me into a pillar. I spin around, expecting an orc, but I'm really not surprised when my staff makes solid contact with Leilanni's arm and she drops her sword.  
  
"Ow!" she cries, clutching her wounded arm. "Bitch!"  
  
What, does she just expect me to lay down and die? Not fucking likely! I swing the staff around again, clocking her upside the head, then duck away and run.  
  
The cave troll comes rushing in. I duck behind the pillar behind Legolas, and I hear him say something very obscene I heard from Elladan once, after Elrohir had knocked him on his ass in the dust. And no, I am not going to tell you what he said. Let's just say it's the kind of language that would make an orc blush. The mouth on that boy.  
  
He glances back at me when he hears me giggle. "A problem, my Lady?" He shoots an arrow through another orc, hands moving faster than I could see.  
  
I giggle again. Yes, giggle. The battle has gone to my head. "You should be ashamed of yourself! I expect that kind of language from Elladan!"  
  
Legolas just grins at me, and I run to go check on the Hobbits.  
  
Sam's doing well, bashing orcs left and right with his frying pan. "I think I'm gettin' the hang of this!" he calls, and smacks another one. Pippin and Merry are doing just fine. I wince as Boromir is thrown into the wall. Aragorn crashes a few minutes later.  
  
And then the spear hit Frodo. There's a moment of still ness, and then rage. Merry and Pippin leap onto his back, stabbing frantically. The troll throws its head back, manages to peel Merry off, and then Legolas shoots it in the throat. It dies.  
  
"Finally," I mutter. I look around. Mitanna is helping Leilanni to her feet, shooting glares across the room at me. I shoot her a cheeky smile.  
  
"I can't believe she hit me," Leilanni whines. Behind me, Boromir mutters something about 'decapitation' and 'trophy' and 'rather sleep with a Warg.' He sends Legolas a sympathetic look, which the Elf simply shrugs off.  
  
Everyone else hurries to Frodo's side. I hear Aragorn go on about how the spear would've skewered a wild boar. Well, here come two wild bores now. Shall we try it?  
  
"I believe there is more to this Hobbit than meets the eye," Leilanni says mysteriously, trying to smile despite the face that she's clutching her head.  
  
Legolas takes her arm, all tender solicitation, and she shoots me a triumphant look. "That looks to be a nasty wound, my lady. Are you sure you are well?"  
  
She stands up straight and nods proudly, then winces at the gesture. "I will be fine." She smiles stunningly at him. "I am quite strong."  
  
Sam mutters something that sounds suspiciously like "Most Men are."  
  
Legolas looks amused.  
  
Oh, listen to that. More drums. More running. Yay.  
  
"To the Bridge of Khazad-Dum!" Gandalf cries dramatically.  
  
And we're off!  
  
TBC... 


	10. Ai, Ai, A Balrog Is Come!

Many thanks to –  
  
Catherine Maria – You're not the only one surprised by the updates. It's coming right now, and fast, which is why I'm writing at three AM. Sorry about the Balrog – I think I know where the 'ladies of questionable breeding' are gonna end up.  
  
Sylvia Viridian – I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I tried, but it's ending up a Legomance anyway. BUT will she end up with my favorite Elf? I don't know that yet, at least.  
  
ADC – Thanks!  
  
Babies-stole-my-dingo – Thanks! I'm glad you didn't have long to wait (unlike most OTHER people who wait for my updates, unfortunately).  
  
Reader poll – Will seriously be taking votes. Should she save Boromir? And should she end up with Legolas? Should we see the sons of Elrond again? Shall the Evil Ones bite the dust? Should she throw over our favorite Elf for some hot Dwarf lovin'? Let me know! ~  
  
So here we are, just, y'know, running for our lives out of sheer terror. And, oh, look, more orcs! Yay!  
  
I really, really need my head examined.  
  
Seeing as how I'm going to die in a few minutes, I really don't see how my insanity is going to cause me many more problems.  
  
And the orcs snarl at us for awhile.  
  
And now they're running away. Now here comes the badness.  
  
"What is this new devilry?" Boromir asks, eyeing the creepy red light.  
  
Gandalf squeezes his eyes shut, so either his trying to sense it out or he has an incredible migraine. "A Balrog. A demon of the ancient world. This foe is beyond any of you! Run!"  
  
And we're running!  
  
~  
  
Have I mentioned that I really, really hate heights? Well, I do. When Boromir just about toppled over the ledge, I thought I was going to throw up. I really, really did.  
  
Thank the Valar I haven't eaten all day. That helped me to not throw up, anyway.  
  
Gandalf grabs Aragorn's arm. "Lead them on, Aragorn!"  
  
Mitanna muttered under her breath. "Aragorn leads everybody on."  
  
Oh, orc-shit. Argh, too much time with Elladan.  
  
Yes, that is an actual phrase I heard the son of Elrond use. Not in polite company, but while sparring. When Glorfindel put him on his ass in the dust. He just hadn't been in top form, that day.  
  
And we're running. Running. It actually takes a lot longer to get there than you see in the movie. And then there's the opposite side, way the holy hell over there. I glance at that edge, and then I do something really stupid.  
  
I look down.  
  
I think I'm gonna faint. I actually black out for about a second, then Boromir grabs me around the waist and hauls me back up. "Watch you step, Kayli."  
  
Leilanni mutters something sarcastic about how it would be such a pity if I plummeted to my death. Legolas gives her a LOOK. One of those scary, piercing looks. Eru knows I would hate to be on the receiving end, but I don't think Ditz-Girl noticed.  
  
"Vile women," Boromir mutters.  
  
I giggle. He glances at me. I wave it off and follow everybody else down the stairs. And more stairs...and more stairs...and oh, look, a great big HOLE in the stairs.  
  
I stare at it. Then I shake my head. "Oh, no. No way in hell. I'll take my chances with the Orcs. And the Balrog."  
  
Suddenly, I am grasped very firmly by the waist, and then I'm sailing through the air, and then I hit the ground on the other side. I stumble, I fall, I land on my ass, and only Legolas grabbing me by the collar of my cloak keeps me from falling off the edge. "I did not carry you over only to see you fall now."  
  
"Then you should have fucking well left me over there!"  
  
My gorgeous, soon-to-be-deceased Elven studmuffin starts helping the rest of the Fellowship across. Boromir helps me to my feet, considering the fact that I don't actually think I can stand. At least I don't feel like I'm gonna ralph.  
  
At the moment, anyway.  
  
I giggle when Legolas grabs Gimli by his beard and hauls him back up. And then I watch, in fear, with everybody else as Aragorn and Frodo attempt to ride the staircase. And when they're safe with all of us (including the Twits, unfortunately) I start to run with everybody else. And we FINALLY get across that damn bridge.  
  
I'm very proud of myself. I only looked down the once. Luckily Boromir was right behind me, and prevented me from falling.  
  
I am such a wimp. And a failure. And all sorts of other things.  
  
Yeah, yeah, yeah.  
  
"Gandalf!" Frodo suddenly yells, an expression of terror on his face.  
  
I look back, even though I really, really don't want to. Mitanna leans over to whisper to me. "Here's one you CAN'T save, goody-two-shoes."  
  
"Boy, are you gonna be surprised when he comes BACK, dumbass," I hissed back. She hit me in the shoulder.  
  
Boromir caught her wrist and hauled her back. "If you lay a hand on her again, you will not live to tell the tale," he snaps, then grabs my arm and hauls me over to stand by Aragorn.  
  
"You'll both get yours," Leilanni hisses after us.  
  
Frodo lets out another desperate cry, and both Boromir and I look towards the bridge.  
  
Where the bridge used to be, with Gandalf barely clinging to the ledge. "Fly, you fools!"  
  
And then he was gone.  
  
~  
  
The rest of the trip to the surface is quick, dark, and silent. I can feel the tears rolling down my face. I don't think I'm crying for Gandalf. I think I'm crying for Frodo, for Merry & Pippin, for Sam. For Boromir. Maybe even for me.  
  
Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.  
  
"Get them up," Aragorn says softly, and his voice sounds a bit dead.  
  
Boromir wipes away his own tears and jumps to his feet. "Give them a moment, for pity's sake!"  
  
"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with orcs! We must reach the woods of Lothlorien." There's a long pause. "Legolas. Boromir. Gimli. Get them up."  
  
Behold, once more the Sues are left out of the equation. Legolas glances back, and for once I can read the expression on his face. It's pain. I don't think the Hobbits are the only ones who need a moment for their grief.  
  
Boromir lightly touches my shoulder. "Come, Kayli, we must go."  
  
I sigh and slowly pull myself to my feet. Legolas hooks a hand under my elbow to help me. I smile at him.  
  
An odd look crosses his face, and he brushes a hand over my cheek. Then he's gone, walking up by Aragorn.  
  
I don't grin at Leilanni. I'll be the mature one in this situation.  
  
But is it ever hard.  
  
TBC... 


	11. Interlude Sam

Interlude – Sam  
  
~  
  
I can't believe he's gone. I always thought that if someone fell, it would be someone like me or Mr. Pippin or Merry, trying to defend Mr. Frodo. Or perhaps that Kayli girl, she seems a bit clumsy, and it would be a terrible shame, as she's the only one out of our female companions that I can stand.  
  
The other ones ruffle my hair. I once heard Mr. Pippin expressing an opinion about something similar just before Caradhras.  
  
Mr. Gandalf thought she was special. You know, I think she is, too.  
  
I reach up and tug her sleeve. She turns to me and smiles, a slow, tired smile. Unlike the blonde and the redhead, Miss Kayli seems affecting by what the rest of us feel. Those two...unnatural things, they only show emotional, false emotion, if they think it'll get them something.  
  
Maybe Pippin's right, and they are after power.  
  
I did see Mitanna, at least I think that's the redhead, the one that's chasing Strider, staring at Mr. Frodo's ring.  
  
And don't they have the decency to chase someone who's single?  
  
"What is it, Sam?" Kayli asks quietly, touching my hand on her arm.  
  
I shake my head. Well done, Samwise, gettin' distracted after you ask for the lady's attention. "I was just wonderin' if you were all right, Miss Kayli."  
  
Kayli smiles at me, and it's a smile apart, I can tell you that. "I'm fine, Sam. Thank you."  
  
There she is again, that Mitanna, staring at Mr. Frodo.  
  
She better not. Will kill her if she tries anything. 


	12. All You Need Is Love

Catherine Maria – I'm trying! I'm really, really trying, but sometimes my muse goes to fast, y'know?  
  
Flamin' June – I'm recommended on the WHAT? Could you let me know what that is, please? I'd like to check it out. And thank you SO much for your kind review.  
  
~  
  
Hey, look! Elves! Elves pointing sharp things at us!  
  
Gimli mutters something about not being able to trust the prancing bastards. Legolas shoots him a glare. "We should turn back!" Gimli calls forward.  
  
"You have entered the realm of the Lady of the Wood," says the creepy blonde head guy. "You cannot go back."  
  
I continue to stand by my observations that all Elves are blond. I peer at the one in front of me. Yep, definitely blond. He gives me a distrustful look, and I give him my biggest, loopiest grin.  
  
"I believe this one is a bit addled," he says, staring at me incredulously.  
  
"Is that a rhetorical question?" I mutter.  
  
Leilanni smiles at me evilly. She saw Legolas touch my face back at the Exit of Moria, and she's been nasty ever since. Yeah, this is me caring. Not at all.  
  
"One to many blows to the head," Mitanna puts in silkily.  
  
I smile back. I don't retort, I don't get defensive, I don't get rude. Not in public, anyway. I'll save the rude for later, when they try to corner me and kick my ass. TRY being the operative word. I do, however, raise one hand and very lightly touch my cheek.  
  
Leilanni turns bright red and turns away.  
  
"Come," Leader Elf Guy says imperiously, "we must go."  
  
What the HELL is his name? This is going to bug me forever.  
  
~  
  
Must not look down. Must not look down. Must not look –  
  
Looked down. New mantra.  
  
Must not puke all over Lothlorien. Must not puke all over Lothlorien.  
  
Aragorn touches my shoulder. "Kindly cease looking down. The speed at which you are changing colors is making me nauseous."  
  
I blush, again. Curse my fair complexion. "Sorry."  
  
He shakes his head. I wince as his hair doesn't really move. God, all that slime must be like superglue. "Do not be sorry. Just don't look down."  
  
~  
  
It's beautiful here. Absolutely beautiful. With the greenery, and the silver trees, and the incredibly scary Elf-lady descending the stairs.  
  
Celeborn looks at us for a moment. "Where is Gandalf, for I much desire to speak with him?"  
  
Huh. THIS Celeborn doesn't sound stoned. Amazing.  
  
"He fell," Legolas said softly. "Into shadow and flame. A Balrog of Morgoth."  
  
Note to self: If I ever get home, am going to read the Silmarillion from cover to cover if it kills me. Will follow that by the Unfinished Tales.  
  
Galadriel looks around at each of us. Celeborn continues to speak, though he looks saddened.  
  
'You were not meant to be here, little one,' says the voice in my head. And it's not one of the previous residents. And what is it with Elves calling me 'little one?'  
  
'You are young to us, child. Remember that. And though you are not meant to be here, your work is not done. Remember that, and do not allow yourself to be distract by what pleasures you find.'  
  
Pleasures? No, no, no! Argh! Gutter!  
  
'Very young. And truly, you are charming when you blush.'  
  
Hate Elves. Hate, hate, hate!  
  
~  
  
It is a very subdued company that goes to the little clearing place the Elves set aside for us. I lay out my blankets by Legolas and just sprawl out on my back, staring at the leaves overhead.  
  
"What do they say?" Merry asks, and that drags me back to the present.  
  
Legolas turns and looks at him and smiles sadly. "I have not the heart to tell you. For me, the grief is still to near."  
  
Leilanni looks like she wants to glomp him but doesn't quite dare.  
  
"I bet they don't sing about his fireworks," Sam says sadly, straightening one corner of his blankets. "They're worthy a verse or two." He stands, clears his throat nervously, but his voice is strong and clear. "The finest rockets ever seen. They burst in stars of blue and green. Or after thunder, silver showers. Came falling like a rain of flowers.." He frowns, and lowers his head. "Oh, that doesn't do them justice by a long road."  
  
"It was beautiful," I find myself saying softly. I smile up at him. "He would've loved it."  
  
"She's right, Sam," Frodo agrees, his voice quiet. But then, it almost always is.  
  
I settle in for the night.  
  
~  
  
Ah, morning. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, a sweet breeze is blowing.  
  
I am going to kill whoever woke me up, I think as I attempt to burrow deeper into my blanket.  
  
Light Elvish laughter forces it's way through the fog around my brain. "Awaken, sleepy one. It is near to four hours past dawn. If you do not hurry, the Hobbits will have eaten all the food."  
  
"D'nt w'nt f'd."  
  
There's a long pause. "I beg your pardon?"  
  
"Don't. Want. Food. Sleeep."  
  
This is followed by an impatient sigh. "Kayli, cease this and awaken this instant."  
  
I pull my head out from under my cloak and glare at him. The sun is making a halo of his pale hair, his skin is glowing, his eyes are lit with delight at being amongst Elf-kind once more, and he just looks so gorgeous I want to hurt him. "Legolas. Royalty or no, if you don't get the hell away from me, I'm going to have to hurt you."  
  
In response to that, he sprawls out on his back on the ground next to me, hands folded behind his head and his eyes on the tree-canopy. "You're troubled."  
  
I grown and bury my head in my cloak. "Damn you Elves."  
  
Legolas laughs again. "I assume it is to do with the fair Lady Galadriel."  
  
I sit up and attempt to smooth down my hair. Since it looks like the Elf is trying not to laugh at the shapes it's managed to knot itself into, I reach into my pack for my brush.  
  
Legolas gently takes it from me and starts to untangle my hair. I go very still. "Why are you doing this?"  
  
"I heard young Pippin make a very astute observation not two days past," he says, seemingly completely off-topic. Ah, but I know better. Elves never say something that doesn't have at least one meaning. If not ten or twenty. But that's only when they want to be really cryptic.  
  
But I have no patience. "Yeah?"  
  
"He said you could use a friend."  
  
I jerk around to look at him, nearly ripping out about half of my hair in the process. "What?" Oh, ow. Stinking brush.  
  
He just stares at me. "Could you not use one?"  
  
I just frown at him. "These days? Who couldn't."  
  
Legolas gently turns my head so that I'm facing away from him and continues to untangle my hair. "True."  
  
There's silence for a long time.  
  
~  
  
I have no idea how long we've been here. I know that the noon hour has long passed, and that dinner-time is almost here. Legolas and I have been sitting with our backs against the tree for a long time, just talking.  
  
Well, he's telling stories about the history of Middle-Earth, and I'm listening. He's good.  
  
Someone very lightly clears their throat from a few feet away. We both look up, startled.  
  
It's Celeborn. Surprise, surprise.  
  
We both get up and bow.  
  
"Prince Legolas. If you do not mind, I would like to borrow your companion for a moment," he says, deep voice quiet.  
  
Legolas glances at me, and bows once more. "Not at all, my Lord. I should rejoin the others." I smile at him, and he leaves.  
  
Lord Celeborn just looks at me for a long moment, then gestures towards on of the paths. "Walk with me for a moment, child."  
  
Oooh, boy.  
  
~  
  
We've been walking for about twenty minutes now, in complete silence. He hasn't spoken, and I don't know what to say.  
  
What do you say to a powerful Elf-Lord who seeks you out to walk with him?  
  
Yeah, I don't know either.  
  
"They'll see you dead if they can," he says suddenly.  
  
I make a face. It was a lot more fun when less people were so interested in my fate. "I know."  
  
"Your fate here is not decided, child. You should not be so glum."  
  
I run a hand over my hair. Legolas braided it for me as he told me stories. Was he elected to come wake me, or what? "Yeah, but I have no idea how I'm going to survive."  
  
He looks at me out of the corner of his eye. "You wish to save others, not merely survive. That is what makes you different than ...your companions."  
  
"Those evil, evil wenches? Yeah." I glance at him in turn. "I guess your Lady's not the only mind reader in town?"  
  
Celeborn actually laughs at that. "My powers are many, but that is not among them. Leilanni and Mitanna seem to think that my Lady is the only power in these woods."  
  
We enter a small series of rooms. In the last, Lady Galadriel smiles at us and rises. I bow uncomfortably. Celeborn goes to her and tenderly kisses her hand. Aw, that's so sweet.  
  
God, gag me with a spoon.  
  
Galadriel gives me an amused look. I'm just as funny as hell, aren't I.  
  
"You had come close to despair last I saw you, child, and yet now there is a lightness to your step. Why is that?" She tilts her head and narrows her eyes at me.  
  
Celeborn coughs lightly, looking amused.  
  
Um, hey, yeah. Am I blushing? Why, yes, yes I am. I'm sure there are tomatoes who are paler shades of red than I am currently. "Um...Time with friends?"  
  
Celeborn suddenly becomes very, very interested in the floor. I think he's trying not to laugh. Galadriel touches his hair and smiles, leaning into his shoulder. He wraps an arm around her waist and kisses her temple. "Or perhaps is it love that brings color to your face?"  
  
If any more blood comes into my head, I'm going to have an aneurism. "Um..."  
  
She laughs and steps away from Celeborn, towards me. "Peace, child, I meant no offense. We have brought you here, rather as a test to see how powerful your bonds to the Fellowship."  
  
Well...I pause to think about it. Boromir, good friend, strong and honest and loyal...Hobbits, loyal, huggable, love love love...Aragorn...Legolas...  
  
Galadriel catches a particular thought that went with that last name and laughs.  
  
"Argh!" I bury my face in my hands. Bad brain! Bad! Get out of the gutter this instant!  
  
Galadriel kisses my cheek and presses something into my hand. "Do not fear. You have more strength than you know, but you cannot give up on hope."  
  
"Yes, my Lady." It must be hard to hear my through my hands.  
  
"Do you a need a guide, or can you find your own way back to the Fellowship?" she asks.  
  
I look up and realize that she's looking over her shoulder at Celeborn. OK, this is the time where...I leave. Yes. Definitely. "Um, I can find my own way. Thank you, my Lord, my Lady." I bow, and turn to leave. I hear footsteps cross the floor, conversation in Elvish, and Galadriel's light laughter. I do not run to the door. I make it through the door and then I run.  
  
~  
  
I find my way back to the Fellowship Tree all on my own, without getting lost once.  
  
I get there, and I collapse at the bottom, in hysterical laughter.  
  
I look up when I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I see Boromir's concerned face looking down at me. "Are you all right, Kayli?"  
  
I laugh and throw my arms around him, hug him as tight as I can. "We're all right, Boromir. We're really all right."  
  
TBC... 


	13. We're Sailing Awaaay

You all kick so much ASS I can't even go into it. I have more than 40 reviews. FORTY. Do you know how cool that is?  
  
Becca – Thank you so much. Yeah, I'm a Beatlemaniac too. They DO rock, don't they?  
  
King Doom – Um...Thank you?  
  
Andrew Joshua Talon – I know, I know, I'm sorry. I can't help it. You have made one very good point, however. I don't really know how to get her and Legolas together and have it, y'know, even remotely feasible.  
  
JoyJoy – Thank you. Hugely. You have no idea.  
  
Sylvia Viridian – That is honestly the first time I have EVER heard someone say: Legomance? Go for it! Except I have no idea how to get them together and have it not be overly Mary-Sueish. And what's wrong with some hot Gimli lovin'? Heh. Love you so much.  
  
Snorkle – Thanks for the addy. You kick ass. I hope I can keep you happy!  
  
Kirdan – The curse of a fair complexion. Sucks, doesn't it? Thanks!  
  
ADC – Thanks again!  
  
Valentia – Oooh, two votes to see Elladan and Elrohir again. And I wouldn't worry too much about Boromir. Thanks!  
  
Catherine Maria – You really need to stop this. My head is going to explode if you keep it up. That makes THREE votes for Elladan and Elrohir, and three to save Boromir. I think he'll be okay. Thank you hugely, I hope you like this chapter!  
  
~  
  
Chapter 11  
  
~  
  
I don't know how long we've been here. I've lost count of the days, because there's not much difference here between day and night. It makes sleeping hell.  
  
Boromir's restless. Aragorn's stoic. Sam's fussy. Merry & Pippin are hungry. Frodo's angsty. Mitanna's trying to crawl into Aragorn's leggings. Leilanni's looking for Legolas. And Legolas and Gimli haven't been seen in days. Legolas spends all of his time, days and nights, out amongst his kin. He's lucky – he has a place to hide. Poor Aragorn has no place to go.  
  
Me, meanwhile, I've been sneaking off to practice with my knives and hanging out with the Hobbits. And there was this one time, the first couple days we were here, that the rude Elf guy from the border, the one who's name I can't remember, got done bathing and couldn't find his clothes.  
  
But I had NOTHING to do with THAT, of course.  
  
Hee.  
  
In other news, Aragorn bathed. It's beautiful. His hair? It moves, now. In breezes and when he shakes his head. Boromir followed his lead. It's like, while we were on the road, they had to compete for everything – who could refuse the ring, who could last the longest on watch, who could stink the most.  
  
MEN.  
  
~  
  
Well, anywho, here we are, packing up all of our supplies into those pretty pretty gray boats. I'm passing random packs to Boromir when Celeborn seeks me out to talk to me again.  
  
We're standing by the edge of the forest now. He's watching Aragorn with narrowed eyes.  
  
Ooh, that's right. He's Arwen's grandfather. I forgot about that.  
  
He turns to me and presses a dagger into my hands. It's light and plain, with a leather-bound hilt. "I know my grandsons gave you others to defend yourself with."  
  
I don't ask how he figured it out. Like he said, Galadriel's not the only power in these woods. "Yes, my Lord."  
  
Celeborn smiles at me, a kind expression. "It's always good to have a backup, Kayli." He pauses, stares at me intently for a moment. "Be careful. 'Twould be a pity to lose such a light, in this world or any other." He turns and leaves, making a beeline for Aragorn.  
  
OK, what the HELL did that mean?  
  
~  
  
Oooh, presents! Yay.  
  
Except, yeah. I already got mine. The Lady approaches me, gently takes my hands in hers. I bend my knees and my head before her, and she draws me back up, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "Have hope, child. Not all love has deserted you." She smiles and traces the silver chain around my throat, the one that holds her gift. "Save these for that moment. It is not something that has been foreseen, but I sense it nonetheless."  
  
I bow again. "Thank you, my Lady."  
  
OK, is this Cryptic Day, or something? Is this some married-couple conspiracy to be as vague as possible?  
  
Galadriel smiles at me, tilting my face up to hers. 'Patience, child. Patience.' She darts a glance at Legolas, out of the corner of her eye, where he's admiring his new bow, then she glances at me, one eyebrow raised. 'Tell me, child, what is it you wanted him to do? Something involving –'  
  
I press a finger to my lips. "SHHH!"  
  
She laughs, presses a kiss to my forehead, and moves on.  
  
~  
  
So here we are, just sailing along. Have I mentioned I can't swim? I can't even float. Water over my head scares the crap out of me. Which is why I am very intently NOT looking over the edge of the boat, and am instead listening to Gimli rhapsodize about Galadriel's hair to Legolas.  
  
Oh, yes, I AM sharing a boat with Legolas. Was Leilanni ever PISSED!  
  
Heh.  
  
~Guess what?~  
  
I was leaning over, tying off the last of the packs on the dock, when Leilanni and Mitanna came up behind me.  
  
"I think you should ride with US, handmaiden," Mitanna said loudly. God, who was she trying to impress now? "You've neglected your duties long enough."  
  
"OK, number one, I'm not your fucking handmaiden. Number two, my only 'duty' isn't to you. So piss off."  
  
I turned back to the packs. I heard Mitanna suck in a deep, angry breath.  
  
"I think the lass'll be riding with us," Gimli said firmly. I looked up. He's not very tall, but since it's all muscle, and he's as broad through the shoulders as he is tall, and he was leaning on an axe he spent an hour sharpening the night before, they backed off.  
  
I gave him a relieved smile. "Thank you, Gimli."  
  
He leaned forward to whisper to me. "Tell ya the truth, lass, I'm not real fond of them."  
  
I grinned at him. "That makes, what, eight of us?"  
  
He laughed.  
  
~OK, OK, it's over, you can look now~  
  
Oh, and speaking of gifts, mine was two rings, one bigger than the other, both made of what looks like woven mithril. They're slender bands, plain but beautiful. I love them. They're on a chain around my neck.  
  
But, honestly, I have bigger things on my mind than a present from the not- as-scary-as-I-though-Elf-Lady.  
  
Amon Hen. The place where are paths are going to change, where we're all going to go our separate ways. Merry and Pippin are going to be taken by orcs, and Boromir's going to die.  
  
The big question? Here it is. Are you ready?  
  
Can I change any of it? Can I save Boromir? Can I keep Merry & Pippin with us? Can I keep Sam and Frodo from going off on their own?  
  
No, wait, don't want to do the last one. And, yes, I realize that was more than one question.  
  
Am I in as much trouble as I think?  
  
TBC... 


	14. Open Up The Pearly Gates

Chapter 12  
  
~  
  
Well, here we are. The end of the beginning. The place where it all starts to change.  
  
Amon Hen.  
  
Fuck.  
  
So many things can happen here that I don't even know what to think. Boromir can die. Merry & Pippin can be taken by orcs. I can die.  
  
I can die.  
  
That's the one that's really getting to me, honestly.  
  
Oooh, and just think of the damage the Evil Ones can do. Kidnap Legolas. Kidnap Aragorn. Kidnap both of them. Kill me. Kill Boromir. Kill me AND Boromir. Get killed by orcs.  
  
I suppose the last one is too much to hope for, however.  
  
~  
  
We pull the boats onto shore. I watch Boromir for a moment, watch him draw in on himself, then seemingly shake it off, almost literally. I stop by his boat and reach out to touch his arm. He almost jumps out of his skin.  
  
"Hey," I say softly, glancing at the shore. Legolas is watching us.  
  
Boromir follows my eyes. "He's been watching you often. I think you have an admirer."  
  
"Sh, don't say that so loud. Leilanni hates me enough as it is."  
  
He shrugs that off. "The Elf wouldn't touch her with anything more than the tip of a blade. It's you who intrigues him."  
  
I shrug, rolling my shoulders. Honestly, I have even bigger things to worry about than whether or not Legolas found me 'intriguing.' Hey, go figure. "It doesn't matter. I'm more worried about you."  
  
Boromir smiles at me, patting the hand on his arm, back to being distracted. He stands and drapes an arm over my shoulders. "Do not worry for me, Kayli. All is well."  
  
I shake my head. "If you say so. Now, I'm gonna go avoid the bitches. If you need me, sing 'Yellow Submarine.'"  
  
He laughs at that, recognizing the words to one of the songs I sang in 'Lorien. I disappear into the trees.  
  
~  
  
Argh! Who knew this was such a big geological area. I hope to god I'm not lost.  
  
Oh, no, there's the campsite.  
  
Minus a Hobbit and a Gondorian. Oh, fuck.  
  
I look around. Make that a Hobbit, a Gondorian, and a would-be King. Sheet.  
  
Also short – two Mary-Sues.  
  
Oh, just...crap. Crap, crap.  
  
Legolas was suddenly at my side, touching my arm. "What's wrong?"  
  
I shake my head, very quickly, back and forth. "Nothing. Everything. I don't know. Shit."  
  
This earned me an irritated sigh. "Very enlightening. Thank you."  
  
I shake my head again. "I really, really don't know. If I knew, I would tell you."  
  
Legolas cocks his head to the side. "Would you truly?"  
  
"Yes!" I cry, running a frustrated hand through my hair. "Yes, I would. Yes."  
  
He suddenly lets go of my arm and turns towards the woods, his bow already in his hands. "Something approaches."  
  
Oh, shit.  
  
I ran.  
  
~  
  
I'm about halfway to the clearing where Boromir falls when I trip.  
  
Or, really, when I'm TRIPPED.  
  
Bitch. Bitch, bitch, bitch.  
  
Leilanni smirks at me. "You should know better than to go against us, little fangirl." She raises her sword. "Now, you're gonna die."  
  
I growl, actually growl, under my breath and roll out from underneath her blade. See, I TOLD Elladan she'd want me to see it coming. It would've made more sense to stab me in the back.  
  
I kick my left foot out, connecting solidly with her knee cap. She drops her sword and cries out, both hands going to her damaged knee. I roll to my feet, ignoring her, and break into a run.  
  
"I'll get you for this, Kayli! Just see if I don't! And then that Elf you're so fond of will be MINE!"  
  
I wonder if he can hear her. Yeah, probably. God, I hope he thinks she's delusional. I really don't want him to think I'm a stalker.  
  
I'm really not paying attention to where I'm going, and so I almost bowl over Aragorn. He catches me by the arm and hauls me up, and I turn.  
  
Aw, shit.  
  
"Holy Orcs, Batman," I mutter, ducking a black sword.  
  
"You should not be here," Aragorn yells, chopping an orc in half.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I yell back, ducking another sword and elbowing the Uruk-hai in the gut. "I've heard it all before, beautiful."  
  
I actually see him mouth the word 'beautiful' as he continues to hack apart orcs. Apparently, he doesn't think I'm as funny as his brothers do.  
  
Suddenly, one of the orcs about to turn me into worm-food sprouts feathers from it's forehead. I am very, very grateful. Legolas grabs my arm and pulls me out of the way of another one. "Go!" He yells. "Do what you most."  
  
I give him a short, grateful smile and start running again.  
  
Then I hear it. A horn. Oh, fuck.  
  
I start to pray as I run, for the first time since second grade and I decided I really didn't believe in god. I prayed to the gods of this world, gods I knew existed. 'Please, please, whoever's listening, let me NOT be too late. Please, please, let me save him.'  
  
~  
  
Hey, look, more orcs. Or Uruk-hai, I guess. And that would be the missing Gondorian, protecting two Hobbits. Yay!  
  
Oooh, and LOOK! A big Uruk-hai with a BOW. One who is conveniently placed with his back to me, but is inconveniently preparing to take the first shot.  
  
I run faster.  
  
And then I take a flying leap directly onto his back, one arm going around his neck and my legs clamping to his sides as my other hand dips toward my boot. I pull out the dagger and slam it into the back of his neck just before his grabs my hair and throws me over his shoulder.  
  
Oh, ow. Ow, ow. I hope my scalp's still attached.  
  
Ack! Ack! Shit! Sword!  
  
I roll out of the way of the plunging blade, coming up to my feet with my other knife in hand. He lets out a howl and dives toward me, sword swinging wildly. I sidestep easily, since an enraged orc is not the clearest thinker, and swipe out with the dagger, opening a long, bloody gash down his arm, then aim a swift kick at his ass. He stumbles and falls into the dirt, and I rush over, plant myself in the middle of his back, yank his head back by the hair, and cut his throat from ear to ear.  
  
He throws me off. Fuck, don't these things ever just DIE?  
  
But, yes, after I cut his throat, he just lays there in the dirt and bleeds. I hurry forward, pulling my other dagger out of the back of his neck, and rush to help Boromir, who's on the verge of being overwhelmed.  
  
I get to an orc at the back and slip my dagger between his ribs. Yes, I realize I'm not being exactly honorable, but out-numbering your opponent about a thousand to nine really isn't honorable either, now is it?  
  
Boromir spares me only a glance, then goes back to hacking apart an orc. Then he turns and gives me a longer look, long enough for a Uruk to nearly plant a sword in his side. I open up it's gut with one blade and it's throat with the other.  
  
"Pay attention," I tell him, and I'm surprised by how cool and businesslike my voice is.  
  
Huh. Learn something new everyday.  
  
~  
  
OK, I understand this is an army, but this is getting ridiculous. Neither one of us is seriously wounded, but I can't see Merry and Pippin anymore, so I think they've been carted off. And I don't see Legolas or Gimli or Aragorn. Hell, at this point I'd be happy for Bitchzilla or her evil twin, just goes to show how many orcs I've come face to snarl with in the last ten minutes.  
  
Then I hear it. "ELENDIL!"  
  
Aragorn. Fucking FINALLY.  
  
All around us, orcs start sprouting feathers and axes. It's beautiful. Boromir and I exchange a grin, and then go back to hacking.  
  
So, needless to say, I'm a bit surprised when I see him stagger out of the corner of my eye, an arrow in his side.  
  
And I also don't think I need to say that it is most definitely NOT an orc arrow. They're getting sloppy. I am going to fucking kill them.  
  
He keeps fighting, one hand pressed to his side, until all the orcs are dead, about ten minutes later.  
  
Then he staggers, one hand around the arrow shaft. Legolas catches his arm, then frowns at the arrow. He helps my friend to sit on a log, then peers closer at the arrow. "This is no orc arrow," he murmurs, and we exchange a glance.  
  
Gee, who ELSE around here has a bow, except for Legolas. Hmm, let me think.  
  
Oh, yeah. Leilanni. Heh.  
  
"She's dead," I mutter, surprised by the venom in my voice. I can feel the smile on my face, and it does not feel like an expression of pleasure. I start walking.  
  
"Kayli," Boromir begins, but Legolas presses a hand to his arm.  
  
"Nay, let her go," the Elf says, and the Dwarf grunts his agreement. By now, Aragorn is kneeling at Boromir's side, looking at the wound. "She can take care of herself. If she says Leilanni will die for this, then she will die for this."  
  
"Good riddance," Gimli says, and I can't help but agree.  
  
Oooh, but that bitch is going to PAY.  
  
~  
  
I don't find Leilanni, but I DO find Mitanna, pacing by a fallen statue. She spins around to face me, then bares her teeth at me. Guess I was supposed to die. Yeah, see if I care. I don't think she sees the daggers in my hands, covered in orc blood, even though they ARE fairly remarkable.  
  
"Oh, that's attractive," I tell her sarcastically. "Like a bitch dog bearing it's teeth."  
  
"You were supposed to DIE, you bitch," she hisses. Yes, hisses, like some kind of damn demented snake. "You and that fucking Steward, you were both supposed to DIE."  
  
I smile at her, slowly, and give the knives in my hand a little twirl. She still doesn't see them. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, since both Boromir and I are alive and well." I pause, tilt my head, and start to circle her. She starts to turn as well, trying to keep me in sight. "I guess I don't know if I'd say WELL, since your little bitch put an arrow in his side."  
  
Mitanna smirks. "Good for her," she says, tossing her hair. Is it just me, or is it growing back faster than it should? I should've shaved her fucking head.  
  
I shake my head, not taking my eyes off of her. "Bad, for both of you, since it was one of her own arrows." I keep right on smiling. "They know, both of them. All of them. Legolas and Aragorn have figured it out, Bitchzilla. If you go near them now, they'll kill you."  
  
She screams and charges, holding up her sword. I stand there, very still, and just keep on smiling. She brings her sword up high, too high, and skewers herself on my dagger. I can feel her blood, warm and wet, running over my hands.  
  
Her sword slides from suddenly nerveless fingers, and she stares at me, eyes wide in disbelief. "It wasn't suppose to be this way," she says softly, her eyes filling with tears.  
  
I shrug and pull out my dagger. I'm suddenly very, very tired. "That's too bad," I say softly. "Because it's still not your story."  
  
She dies, her eyes full of tears.  
  
I close my eyes, take a deep breath, then stagger over to the side, away from her body, and puke my guts up.  
  
TBC... 


	15. Lembas, Not As Good The Second Time

Ah, the taste of puke. How lovely.  
  
I feel a cool, dry hand pressing against my forehead. I lean against it gratefully, closing my eyes, which I can't really see out of anyway.  
  
Someone draws me close, allows me to rest my head on their shoulder. I press my face into said shoulder, breathing in what smells like leather and blood and pine and earth.  
  
Ah, this would be Legolas. Boromir and Aragorn would just smell like dirt and blood, and Gimli would smell like metal. Also, Gimli doesn't speak Elvish.  
  
"Are you well enough to stand?" Legolas asks softly, right next to my ear. One of his hands is running through my hair, trying to soothe me. I shake my head fiercely against his shoulder, curling my hands into fists. I can feel the blood oozing between my fingers.  
  
I jerk away from him, scramble a few feet, and am rather spectacularly sick into the bushes.  
  
Yuck. Never eating lembas again.  
  
~  
  
Ah, how nice it is to be seeing the ground from a vertical angle once more. Not as fun to look at when you are laying on it.  
  
Legolas is standing close behind me, one hand steady on my shoulder. I reach up and pat it, trying to reassure him that no, I am not going to faint or throw up again. I sway a little, and press both hands over my face, but manage to remain vertical. Yay, brownie points!  
  
"Where's Leilanni?" I ask, through my hands.  
  
Legolas shrugs, rising to his feet with grace and ease that makes me want to punch him. If it wouldn't make me fall over. "We have not seen her. Perhaps Mitanna's death caused her to flee?"  
  
I shrug, cautiously removing my hands from my face. Legolas is staring at me with narrowed eyes. "What?" I ask, smoothing back my hair.  
  
The Elf nods his head toward the river. "Look at yourself. You do not look the same."  
  
I give him an odd look, walk over to the river, and look down.  
  
Then I sit down hard in the water, still staring at myself.  
  
~  
  
Holy god, this is me. This is really me!  
  
The hair hasn't changed, it's still long and black, but that's okay, I always wanted black hair. The eyes are mine again, darker blue-green than they were before. My face really hadn't changed all that much, but it's back to normal.  
  
It's me, tongue ring and earrings and everything. Yes!  
  
Legolas comes over and crouches by my side. "You are still...you?"  
  
I nod, grinning hugely. "Yes, this is me. This is so me!"  
  
I hear footsteps behind us. Legolas rises to greet them; I stay crouched by the edge of the water, staring at myself. No, I am not narcissistic, it's just...damn. It's ME.  
  
I see Boromir crouch by my side. I look up and grin at him. He falls on his ass.  
  
Now I frown at him. "Come ON, people. It's not THAT drastic."  
  
Boromir slowly shakes his head. "You are still you." It wasn't a question.  
  
I nod, grinning at him again. "Yeah, I'm still me. THIS is me. I guess..." I shrug, turning back to the water. "I guess when Mitanna kicked the bucket the magic that changed the way I look...it must've faded." They look at me incredulously. I look back at them and pass a hand in front of my changed features. "Anybody else got an explanation?"  
  
Legolas and Aragorn exchange glances. "I know of no such magic," Aragorn says.  
  
Legolas shrugs. "I do not know why they would do so."  
  
I shrug. "Maybe they didn't want an ugly hand-maiden?"  
  
Aragorn frowns at me, all suspicious-Ranger-guy. "I do not understand why you are so overjoyed at this change."  
  
I throw up my hands. "DUDE. This is really, really me. The way I look. Do have any idea how long I've wanted to see this ugly mug?"  
  
"Why would she lie?" Boromir demanded. "She hated them, and wanted free of them."  
  
Legolas nodded slightly. "I do not believe she is lying."  
  
I push my hair off my face. "Thank you. I really appreciate that, since I'm not lying. Don't we have bigger things to worry about than me? Or smaller, actually. Aren't we short a couple Hobbits?"  
  
Boromir looks down guiltily. "'Tis my fault. The Orcs took Merry & Pippin."  
  
"It's not your fault. We would've gotten our asses kicked." I squeeze his arm. "What about Sam and Frodo?"  
  
Legolas gestures across the river. "They have crossed over to the eastern bank. They travel to Mordor alone." He sends Aragorn a slightly angry look. "We should follow after them."  
  
I nod slowly. "What about Merry and Pippin?" I ask.  
  
At the same time, Boromir says, "I shall not go after Frodo."  
  
Gimli, now. "Aye, what of Merry and Pippin?"  
  
Aragorn nods. "We cannot leave them with the orcs. We shall not abandon them to torment and death." He claps a hand to Legolas's shoulder. "Come. We hunt some orcs."  
  
They set off into the forest, all of them moving easily, even Boromir, despite the fact that he's wounded. I swear and try to catch up.  
  
TBC... 


	16. Interlude Boromir

Interlude – Boromir  
  
She saved my life, so now I owe her mine. It is the way of my people.  
  
Besides, I like her. She's strange, and amusing, at times, when she's not being difficult.  
  
We've set up a camp for a short while. The Elf is keeping watch, and the Dwarf is already asleep. I'm too restless to sleep.  
  
"We should keep moving," I say for about the tenth time.  
  
Kayli makes a disgusted sound. "Are you trying to kill me, Boromir?"  
  
I frown at her. "No, and you know this very well. I do not like to think of Merry and Pippin in danger."  
  
Aragorn frowns at me. "We cannot keep moving at all times. We do need rest." Kayli makes a protesting noise. It's hard to tell exactly what, since her head's buried in her cloak. Aragorn actually smiles at that. "All of us, not just you, Kayli. Get your rest."  
  
And so we settle in. I actually sleep for a few hours, surprising even me.  
  
I do not know what wakes me later. I hear a quiet cry of distress, and sit up. Kayli seems to fending off some invisible attacker. I prepare to rise and go to her, but the Elf beats me to it, gently grasping her hands and speaking to her, soothing her back into sleep with gentle words. But her eyes are open now, and she looks terrified. He says something, she fiercely shakes her head. I notice that her grip on his hands is so tight her knuckles are white, yet he does not object.  
  
I can feel my eyes widen when she tugs her hands free of his and wraps her arms around him. His hands move in soothing circles on her back, and I realize she's weeping.  
  
The Elf catches my eye from across the clearing, and very sublty shakes his head, telling me that he'll take care of her. And she will be embarrassed enough that the Elf saw her as such. She does not like to appear weak.  
  
I nod in return and lay back down. I hear him murmuring to her, and her whispering back. Something else, and then quiet, choked laughter.  
  
Her first human kill, I think as I lay on my blankets. She will not soon recover.  
  
However, when we prepare to move out the next morning, before dawn, her eyes are clear and she's smiling slightly.  
  
Perhaps she is stronger than I thought. 


	17. Horses, of Courses

Catherine Maria – I'm sorry! I couldn't stop her! She just shot him! Thank you so much! I'm glad you're enjoying it!  
  
Meee – OK, I think that's FOUR votes to see Elladan and Elrohir again. Thanks so much!  
  
Ainu lote – Thanks! Hugely!  
  
Sylvia Viridian – You're asking me? I have no idea! When they catch up to Leilanni, I'm sure Kayli'll ask her. Probably with the tip of her dagger. You're the only person to comment on the interludes! Thanks so much!  
  
~  
  
Chapter 14  
  
~  
  
OK, I hate being the only chick on this field trip. Do have any idea how hard it is to find a split second of privacy amongst four macho, macho Men, Dwarves, and Elves?  
  
Oh, and don't even think for a SECOND that Legolas isn't masculine. Just because he has long hair and a smooth face does not mean he isn't a guy. As a matter of fact, he's more manly than a lot of guys I know back home, and yes, Micah, I AM talking about you. Not your boyfriend. Just you.  
  
I think I've gone crazy. No, I'm almost positive I've gone crazy.  
  
I'm pretty sure I'm also managing to run and sleep at the same time. Convenient, that.  
  
OK, maybe not so much when somebody grabs you and throws you into a ROCK!  
  
Ow. Thanks a lot, Aragorn.  
  
"Riders of Rohan," Legolas says softly. "One hundred and five. Armed with spears."  
  
Boromir and I exchange a glance. Boromir mouths something that looks suspiciously like the word 'wow.' I shrug, trying to release the tension in my shoulders. Elves are swell. Yay.  
  
I am so far gone that not even Legolas can impress me. How sad is that.  
  
And here we have. Aragorn steps out and thus exposes himself.  
  
No, not that kind of 'exposes.' As in shows...oh, hell. Forget it.  
  
He steps out from behind the rocks and yells. "Riders of Rohan! What news from the Mark?"  
  
"Um, are we sure we want them over here?" I ask softly.  
  
Too late. We're surrounded. And can I just say I am really tired of having the pointy end of ANTYHING pointed at me?  
  
"What business have two men, an Elf, a Dwarf and a woman –" He spits out 'woman' like it's a bad word – "Have in the Riddermark?"  
  
I do not make any comments about ghost ships, or maggots, or falling through deck plates, or anything related to Julianna Marguiles. Or Hercules or Xena. And I do not ask about the REAL relationship between him and his horse, even though I really, really want to.  
  
Since that's more or less all of my conversational options, I do not speak. I refrain. Aren't you proud?  
  
Besides, Boromir and Gimli are both gripping my arms, as if they're afraid I'll say something stupid. Would I do that? Shut up. It was a rhetorical question.  
  
"Give me your name, horse master, and I'll give you mine," Gimli says, glaring at him.  
  
Caesar...I mean, Eomer...gets off his horse and draws his sword. "I would cut off your head, if it stood but higher from the ground."  
  
Finally, somebody ELSE is having something sharp pointed at them. Go, studly!  
  
"You would die before your stroke fell," Legolas snarls. Yes, snarls. Ooh, I'm all aflutter.  
  
Somebody help me. I think I'm broken.  
  
Aragorn gently pushes Legolas's arrow aside. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. This is Boromir, son of Denethor, the Steward of Gondor."  
  
"We have met," Boromir mutters.  
  
Aragorn ignores him and continues. "Gimli, son of Gloin, and Legolas, of the Woodland Realm. And this is Kayli, another warrior joined our quest."  
  
Rough, masculine laughter greet this last comment. They don't believe him. Oooh, bummer. My heart is breaking. I really don't think I like Mr. Testosterone, over there.  
  
And he just keeps going, even in the face of overwhelming odds. He must either be a hero, or a masochist. Guess which one I'm going for?  
  
Yeah, you guessed it.  
  
"We are friend of Rohan, and of Théoden, your King."  
  
Eomer sighs, lowering his sword. "Théoden no longer recognizes friend from foe." He pulls off his helmet. "Not even his own kin."  
  
The helmet removal must be some kind of secret Rohirrim code. The others all lower their spears. I roll my eyes at the one closest to me, ignoring Legolas's hand on my arm. God, MEN.  
  
Eomer frowns, looking at each of us in turn. "Saruman has poisoned the mind of the king and claimed lordship over these lands. My company are those loyal to Rohan. And for that, we are banished. The White Wizard is cunning. He walks here and there, they say, as an old man, hooded and cloaked. And everywhere his spies slip past our nets."  
  
"We're not spies," I say softly, brushing my hair out of my eyes.  
  
He doesn't even bother to spare me a glance.  
  
So Aragorn repeats the statement. "We are not spies. We track a party of Uruk-hai westward across the plain. They have taken two of our friends captive."  
  
Eomer is shaking his head before Aragorn even finishes speaking. "The Uruks are destroyed. We slaughtered them in the night."  
  
I feel Legolas go very still next to me, and I can feel my heart pounding. What if me saving Boromir changed how Merry and Pippin live in this 'verse? What if me saving Boromir killed them? What if?  
  
God, I fucking hate what if's.  
  
I tune out the rest of the conversation. I come back to reality when Eomer calls forward four horses. Yes, four. Apparently, there were more floating around the back of the herd in the movie. I guess.  
  
I grin and approach one of them, stroking my hands across his smooth brown mane. He's a solid, rich chocolate, absolutely beautiful.  
  
Why, yes, I DO know how to ride. I don't find it particularly enjoyable, since my feet aren't touching the ground, but yes, I can ride. One of my friends in school had a farm, with horses, and I learned how to ride there.  
  
"Do you need help...mounting him?" asked one of Eomer's riders, complete with a rude gesture.  
  
I could feel both Boromir and Legolas stiffening. They don't take insults towards a lady very well. Gimli snorts. Aragorn just sighs.  
  
I look up at him and smile slowly, looking him over from head to toe in a deliberate way. "I don't think you have the right...equipment."  
  
Several of the other Riders burst into deep, masculine laughter and rather crude jokes at his expense. Aragorn is leaning his face into Hasufel's mane, Gimli's chuckling, Boromir's got his jaw hanging open, and Legolas looked like he was clipped with Sam's frying pan of DOOM.  
  
I smile at them innocently. "Was it something I said?"  
  
Gimli laughs harder.  
  
~  
  
It's a good thing we ended the last bit on a good note, since the big heaping pile of charred Uruk corpses really isn't cute. Or...anything other than gross and synonyms there-of.  
  
Gimli holds up the belt, tears gleaming in his black eyes. "One of their wee belts," he says softly.  
  
Legolas turns his face away. He murmurs under his breath in Elvish, something that sounds like a prayer.  
  
Then Aragorn lets out a scream of rage and drops to his knees. He sounds like me when I'm made at my car.  
  
We start to follow him across the field, listening to him mutter. "They went into Fangorn," he says softly, and we stand there and stare at the forest.  
  
"Fangorn," Gimli whispers.  
  
"What madness could have driven them there?" Boromir asks.  
  
Uhhh....orcs? Maybe?  
  
I shrug. "Only one way to find out."  
  
We walk in.  
  
~  
  
I tuned out again, didn't I? Dammit.  
  
"This forest is old," Legolas whispers. His expression is reverant. I guess this must be the equivalent of a mecca for an Elf. "Full of memory...and anger."  
  
Groans suddenly fill their air. "Is that the TREES?" I whisper, wrapping my arms around myself. OK, flesh, anytime you wanna stop crawling is alright with me.  
  
Gimli raises his axe. Poor Dwarf.  
  
"They are speaking," Legolas says softly, directing it mostly at me. "They have sense of the world around them, just as we do."  
  
"The TREES?" I whisper back, not even bothering to keep the disbelief out of my voice. I'm sorry, it's just...they're TREES.  
  
Legolas just smiles. "Aye, the trees."  
  
"Gimli," Boromir hisses back over his shoulder. "Lower your axe. You're making the trees nervous." He gives Legolas a sarcastic look.  
  
Legolas glares back. I touch their arms. "Now, now, boys, play nice."  
  
They both turn to stare at me. Legolas frowns, glances around the forest, then turns back to Aragorn and says something in Elvish.  
  
Aragorn answers.  
  
"The White Wizard approaches," Legolas whispers.  
  
Oh. Oh, OK. Yay?  
  
They all draw their weapons, whipping around with a yell. I pull one of my daggers, then swear and drop it as the hilt turns white-hot.  
  
Ow, ow ow!  
  
So I'm standing their, clutching my hand, glaring at a bright flash of white with long with hair and robes. Yes, it's Gandalf. I remember now. Shut up.  
  
"You are tracking the footsteps of two young Hobbits," the White Wizard says, and I resist the urge to call him Count Dooku.  
  
"Where are they?" Boromir demands. He would look fiercer if he wasn't cradling his hand.  
  
"They passed this way the day before yesterday. They meant someone they did not expect. Does that comfort you?" he continues.  
  
"Um...no?" I whisper.  
  
"Who are you?" Aragorn demands. "Show yourself."  
  
The light fades, and it's...gasp! Gandalf.  
  
I sigh and lean against a tree. This much stress cannot be good for your heart.  
  
The others murmur with surprise. Legolas kneels.  
  
I am NOT kneeling before Gandalf. Maybe if I just fall down.  
  
Gandalf is telling them how he defeated the Balrog. The ground is spinning. It is not pleasant.  
  
I hit the ground. I'm very glad. It's not moving anymore.  
  
TBC... 


	18. Wake Up Call

Andrew Joshua Talon – Ahem. *looks guilty* Well, you see, I don't currently have access to the books. I'm going to try really hard, however, and if you know of something in particular you would like to see, let me know, and thank you HUGELY.  
  
Ainua lote – You'll see, you'll see. And thanks!  
  
Becca – NO! You can't die, you're one of my best reviewers! My ego wouldn't survive! Kidding, kidding. But, seriously, don't die. And I'm ALL THERE with the homework thing. Ug. Thank you so much!  
  
Catherine Maria – Confusing references is me. Hee. I'm trying really hard with Boromir, really I am, but I don't think he'll be hanging around forever. And you'll see! Patience! Thank you. You ROCK.  
  
Huygens -- *shifty eyes* Well, some...oh, hell. I've read them ALL! Thank you hugely!  
  
Sylvia Viridian – The high point of her day was when she managed not to ask Eomer about him and his horse. Seriously. Her restraint isn't the best! And Nina's right, he is a pig. Thank you so much! You rock!  
  
Anime no Megami – No shouting! Sh! And Kayli has already expressed her thoughts about a possible Boromir 'ship. I believe it was something along the lines of 'It'd be like sleeping with my BROTHER.' As for Faramir...Let's just say being on Eowyn's bad side would not be the high point of ANYBODY'S day. Don't worry, the 'ship is still up for grabs!  
  
Ancara-iii – I will never, ever understand how Boromir is always made out to be the bad guy! Never! It wasn't his fault! And thank you so, so much!  
  
ADC – Going? She's going? She's already gone. And as for Boromir...both opinions have been expressed. Something about it being like incest. Don't worry, the 'ship is still up for grabs.  
  
Cah – Dude, that was a very useful review! Anything positive is useful. And I'm doing my best on the updates, I'm just putzy. Thanks!  
  
Prettyfoot – Thanks! And don't worry...I think Leilanni'll be around...*evil laughter*...Ahem. Thanks for you review!  
  
~  
  
Chapter 15  
  
~  
  
We're already riding when I wake up. I'm riding with Boromir, and can I just say having the hilt of someone's sword dig into your back is NOT comfortable.  
  
And yes, it is the hilt of his sword. Gutterface. Eww.  
  
He leans forward to talk to me. "Are you...well?"  
  
I nod, slowly, rubbing my temples. "What happened?"  
  
"You fainted," Gimli says from nearby. When I turn to glare at him, he's grinning at me through his beard.  
  
I smile back.  
  
"You were pushing yourself too hard," Aragorn explains. "You have not been eating, nor resting as well as you should."  
  
I grimace and rub my head. "OK. I'll watch that."  
  
Aragorn opens his mouth to continue, and I hold up a hand. "I get it, Aragorn. It won't happen again. I'll be good, I promise."  
  
Aragorn frowns at me. I can tell he doesn't believe me, but I turn away from him before he has a chance to reply, looking for my horse.  
  
Oh, there he is, tied to Aragorn's by a lead-rein. Good. I was hoping we hadn't left him. I glance over my shoulder at Boromir. "Would you be really offended if I asked to ride my own horse?"  
  
He frowns at me. "Are you strong enough?"  
  
I nod, suppressing a wave of nausea. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Please?"  
  
We stop, and I get my own horse. Yay! No more sword in the small of my back!  
  
~  
  
"Edoras," Gandalf announces dramatically sometime later. "And the Golden Hall of Meduseld. Be on your guard, and expect no welcome here."  
  
Meduseld. Is it just me, or does that sound like cough syrup?  
  
Yeah. Um, maybe it's just me.  
  
~  
  
And I tuned out again. Dammit, I really need to work on that.  
  
I get down off my horse, watching everyone else. "Ye'd find more cheer in a graveyard," Gimli mutters.  
  
Yeah. Sheesh, I've never seen a group of more depressed people. We climb the stairs. Gandalf smiles at the guy at the door. I suppose he's a guard of some sort. "Ah," Gandalf says happily, like it's all just going his way.  
  
Must be a nice feeling. I wouldn't know.  
  
"I cannot allow you before Théoden King so armed, Gandalf Greyhame. By the order of..." He's quiet for a second, then continues, like he'll say it, but he's not happy about it. "Grima Wormtongue."  
  
If THAT isn't the most conspicuous bad-guy name since Severus Snape.  
  
Gandalf turns to us and nods. Reluctance in ever gesture, the boys hand over their weapons. Legolas gives his knives a little twirl, like he's reluctant to part with them. Which, hell, I am. Boromir, Aragorn, and Gandalf hand over their swords. Legolas his bow and quiver, Gimli his axes. Yes, axes. Like, four of them.  
  
I draw the knives out of my boots and the other one from it's sheath at the small of my back. I hold them out, and the dude doesn't even look at me. I have to thwack him on the shoulder with the hilts to get him to even LOOK at me, and then he does a double-take, like he can't believe they were stupid enough to arm a woman.  
  
"You gonna take these or not?" I ask, and I know I sound rude, but I don't particularly feel that swell, and I'm sick of standing here.  
  
"You're a woman," he blurts.  
  
"Good eye," I say sarcastically.  
  
"Who would allow a woman to fight?" he asks incredulously.  
  
"I'd rather have the lass at me back then a lot of men I know," Gimli snarls.  
  
I grin at him. "Thanks, Gimli."  
  
And, naturally, they all take this statement as a personal insult, which it probably was, but STILL. MEN.  
  
Legolas and I exchange a glance, then roll our eyes almost simultaneously. He's not real impressed either. I lean over to whisper to him. "Are the Men here always like this?"  
  
"Yes," he mutters back, giving the lead guy the evil eye.  
  
I shake my head. "That's bad. Like everybody's suffering a permanent case of testosterone poisoning."  
  
Legolas frowns at me. "I do not know these words."  
  
I smile and shrug. "It's hard to explain. It's just something we say in my...homeland."  
  
"Your staff," Hama says to Gandalf.  
  
"Oh," Gandalf says. "But I am old. If I may not lean on my staff as I go, then I shall not go in until it pleases Théoden to hobble out himself to speak to me."  
  
Then he stumbles slightly, leaning on his staff and Legolas's arm.  
  
The guard turns to Legolas, giving him a helpless look, but Legolas just gives him this adorable, wide-eyed look.  
  
I giggle.  
  
Gandalf drops Aragorn a wink, leaning on his arm now, and Legolas drops back between me and Gimli.  
  
I smile at him, and he reaches up one hand to trace the corner of my mouth. "That, my Lady, is something that should be seen for more often."  
  
And then he walks after Gandalf and Aragorn, leaving me gaping after him like a fish.  
  
What the HELL was that all about?  
  
~  
  
"The courtesy of your hall is lessened of late, Théoden, King," Gandalf says in his big, impressive voice.  
  
I love it. He's not King Théoden, he's Théoden, King.  
  
My god, that guy looks like he rolled in a puddle of grease from on of the fryers at work. He's greasy, he's pale, he's slimy, he's dressed all in black, and he even LOOKS spineless. Fuck, no wonder he's evil. If I looked like that, I'd be pissed at the world too.  
  
"Why have you...come...Gandalf...Stormcrow?"  
  
How, pray tell, do you NOT notice when your king looks like he died a couple of months ago?  
  
"A just question, my liege," says Grima the Greasy. He stands and starts to walk towards Gandalf, trying to look threatening. I try not to wonder if he's dripping grease all over the nice shiny floor. "Lathspell I name you, Ill-news, for ill news is an ill guest, I say."  
  
"Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth," Gandalf snaps. "I did not cross fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm!"  
  
Woo-hoo! You tell 'im, Grampa!  
  
As Robin Hood would say, prepare for the fight scene.  
  
The boys leap into action. I step out from behind Gandalf and smile innocently at the big bulky guard about to take a swing at me. He pauses, his eyes widening as he takes in my features, and then, being a guy, drop down to look at my chest. I punch him full out in the face. He falls on his ass. It's great.  
  
I hear Théoden laughing in a not-Théoden voice as I duck a punch from a smaller guard, who looks about fifteen years younger than the rest of them. I rush him, tackle him around the waist, and slam him to the ground. He grabs at me, and I bounce out of reach. Yes, bounce. Like Tigger on crack.  
  
Suddenly, a bright light fills the room and Gandalf shakes his staff at Théoden. I resist the urge to shout something along the lines of 'the Power of Christ compels you!'  
  
Here's the best thing. All the guards hesitate before even swinging at me, like they're afraid I'm going to crumple and weep or run tattling to my husband/father/brother/ cousin/uncle/etc.  
  
I realize I have said this on numerous occasions, but GOD, men.  
  
Then, just like that, the fights over, and Théoden's staggering to his feet. Grima tried to crawl by Gimli, but the Dwarf kicks him in the gut and then plants a foot on his chest. "I'd stay put, if I were you."  
  
One of the guards hands Théoden his sword, and then Théoden grabs Grima by the collar and hauls him out onto the steps. We all troop out after them. I grin as Théoden chucks Grima down the stairs.  
  
"I only ever desired to serve you, my Lord," Grease Boy calls back, cowering like a kicked dog.  
  
"You would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast!" Théoden bellows, staggering down the steps like he's drunk. But hey, at least he's mobile, right?  
  
I watch with a certain amount of detachment as Aragorn steps in on Grima's behalf. He steps down, extending a hand towards the slimy git, and Grima spits in his face.  
  
"Asshole," I mutter. Gimli glances back at me. "Shoulda killed him."  
  
To my surprise, it's Legolas who murmurs his agreement. "The only good enemy is a dead enemy."  
  
The Elf and I agree on something. Go figure.  
  
TBC... 


	19. Funerals Suck

~  
  
Chapter 16  
  
~  
  
Funerals suck.  
  
Seriously. All of them. It doesn't matter if you it's someone you know, someone you don't know, someone you like, someone you don't like, someone who did you a favor or someone who done you wrong.  
  
I listen to way, way too much country music.  
  
But, anyway. The funeral for Theodred (at least I think that was the name of the King's son) is over, and the day has not improved.  
  
We are now sitting in the ...throne room, I guess. Eowyn is tending the children. Gandalf and Aragorn are trying to convince Théoden that war would be better than locking yourself in a box, like pigs in a pen, waiting for the slaughter.  
  
Am I being pessimistic? Why, yes. I am. In the words of my big brother, 'Paranoia will keep you alive. All courage gets you is dead.'  
  
Except, y'know, in this case it's the lack of courage that's going to wipe out Rohan. Dammit, why won't that son of a bitch listen to reason?  
  
Ah, this would be frustration. I recognize it now.  
  
"I will not bring open war upon my people," Théoden says firmly.  
  
"Open war is upon you, whether you would risk it or not," Aragorn argues.  
  
"Last time I looked, it was Théoden, not Aragorn, who was king here," Théoden says, shooting Aragorn a steely glare.  
  
I push my way to my feet. Boromir lightly touches my arm and I smile at him, shaking my head. I'm fine. Pissed, but I'll be fine. I walk out.  
  
I wander most of Edoras for the rest of the afternoon. When I get back, just before sunset, I find the boys, minus Gandalf, out on the training grounds. Legolas is practicing his archery. I don't know why, I haven't seen him miss a shot yet. Gimli's sitting on a bench. Aragorn and Boromir are standing nearby, talking quietly. As I get closer, I realize that they're talking about what could possibly make Legolas miss a shot.  
  
When I get up next to them, Boromir turns and smiles at me. "What say you, Kayli? Could you perhaps use your feminine wiles to make our Elven companion miss a shot?"  
  
Feminine wiles? What the hell is he...Oh. Oh, I get it.  
  
Wipe that smirk off your face or I'll remove it for you, buddy boy. I decide to go for it, and smile at him. "I don't know about feminine wiles," I say, and I start to walk over towards our 'Elven companion.'  
  
I wonder if match-making is a Gondorian trait or if it's just Boromir.  
  
I stand next to Legolas for a moment, arms folded over my chest, just watching. His eyes flicker towards me every few seconds, like he's afraid I'll snatch the bow out of his hands.  
  
I have absolutely no interest in his bow.  
  
As he draws the string back, sights along the arrow, prepares to shoot, I lean over and, very, very softly, blow into the tip of his ear.  
  
His arms jerk, and the arrow misses its target by just under a mile. It shoots about five or eight feet from the edge of the target, sails over low to the ground, and buries itself in the side of the stables, halfway to the fletching.  
  
I can hear Boromir and Gimli laughing behind me. Legolas has gone very still. There's a slight tightening around his eyes.  
  
Ooh, I think I've pissed him off.  
  
He squeezes his eyes shut, lowers his bow, and actually shivers. "Was that TRULY necessary?" he asks, and his voice is a little bit tight.  
  
I actually stop and think about it. Was it necessary? "Well, no," I confess. Then I grin at him. "But I've been wanting to do that for WEEKS." I lean over and kiss his cheek. "Sorry, you're the only Elf I've got to torture."  
  
Legolas smiles at me, a gentle, almost fond expression. "Perhaps I should have convinced Lord Elrond to send one of his sons instead."  
  
"Now there's a horrifying thought," I reply, and he laughs.  
  
~  
  
ARgh! Travel-time. Doesn't that just suck.  
  
We're riding! And riding and riding and riding. Legolas is being all studly- Elf-guy, Gimli's quiet, and Aragorn's getting to know Eowyn.  
  
I'm starting to wonder if I'm going to have to use Arwen's knitting needles on HIM. Were they this cuddly in the book?  
  
In other news, Eowyn can't cook. I'm not even sure what this stuff IS. It's got white bits floating in it, and it tastes TERRIBLE.  
  
"Is it good?" Eowyn asks me nervously, twisting her hands.  
  
I smile weakly. "It's delicious," I manage, lying through my pearly-whites.  
  
She smiles hugely, ladling up another bowl. "Would you like some, my Lord?" she asks Legolas.  
  
The Elf shakes his head, a little too quickly. "Nay, my Lady. I have no hunger."  
  
Gimli mutters something that sounds suspiciously like 'lucky you.'  
  
Eowyn accepts this, however, and picks up the bowl. "I'll take this to Lord Aragorn." She pauses, looking uncertain. "Do you think he'll like it?"  
  
Legolas smiles. If you look closely, it looks really vicious. Or maybe that's just me. "He'll love it," the Elf assures her.  
  
Eowyn hurries off, grinning. As soon as she's out of sight, I dump the bowl out. "Don't tell her I said so, but that was nasty."  
  
"She seems rather taken with Aragorn," Legolas says softly.  
  
I smirk at him. "You noticed."  
  
~  
  
Yawn.  
  
Rohan's pretty, and all that, but...still. I'm not the outdoorsy type.  
  
"What is it?" Théoden yells suddenly. "What did you see?"  
  
"Wargs!" Aragorn hollers back. "We're under attack."  
  
Ah, fuck. Shit.  
  
"All riders to the head of the column!" Théoden calls out, wheeling his horse.  
  
Do I stay or do I go? I'm on a horse. Does that make me a rider?  
  
I see Boromir swing up on his horse. If he gets his ass killed, I am going to be so pissed.  
  
I'm about to follow when I see one woman with about eight kids. Most of them are old enough to know to hurry, but one is a little girl with messy blond braids, and she's only about four.  
  
I sigh, ride over, scoop her up, and take her over to her mother. I'm about to hang around, offer the mother my horse...  
  
She glares at me. "Take my baby and go. I don't need your horse! Go!"  
  
I nod and ride. You do not mess with mommas. It's just not something you do.  
  
~  
  
I talk to her as we ride. Her name's Dalen, and when I ask her how old she is, she smiles hugely, holds up three fingers, and says 'this many.' She's adorable.  
  
"I wanna be just like Lady Eowyn when I grow up!" she says.  
  
So...you wanna grow up to...what, hang all over Aragorn, not be able to cook, and worry too much about honor?  
  
No, I can't say that. "You wanna be a lady a of Rohan?"  
  
Dalen nods excitedly. "Uh-huh! And she can ride really good and I bet the orcs are afraid of her she can fight so well."  
  
I smile and ruffle her hair, trying not to think of the battle that I know is coming. "You just be a kid first, let other people worry about orc- smashing. OK?"  
  
She nods, and leans back against me, almost immediately going to sleep. Kids like me for some reason. Really sucks for them, 'cause I don't like kids.  
  
"Helm's Deep!" someone calls. "We've made it! We're here!"  
  
Glory hallelujah.  
  
~  
  
I dismount in the courtyard, then lift Dalen down and carry her. "Do you see your momma, honey?" I ask softly, pulling her long braids back off of her face.  
  
"Dalen!" I hear a cry, and I turn to see her mother hurrying over. "Oh, Dalen, my little one..."  
  
I smile and hand her over.  
  
"Thank you, my Lady," the woman says, clasping one of my hands. "Thank you."  
  
I squeeze her hand in return. "It's just Kayli, and you're welcome."  
  
"I beg your pardon?" she asks, looking confused.  
  
"Kayli," I clarify, pointing at myself. "I'm just Kayli, not 'my Lady.'"  
  
She smiles. "My name is Freyja."  
  
I give Dalen's braids a tug and she giggles. "Your daughter's beautiful, Freyja. Take care of them."  
  
"I will. Thank you," she says, smiles again, and walks away.  
  
I close my eyes, sigh, and take a deep breath, trying to tune out all of the noise.  
  
"My Lady? Lady Kayli?"  
  
See? It doesn't even sound right.  
  
I turn back, look at Eowyn, and sigh. "What can I do?"  
  
~  
  
"Make way for Théoden!" Somebody hollers about half an hour later. "Make way for the king!"  
  
Eowyn grabs my hand. "They have returned!" And she takes off down the corridor. I follow behind her, slower. I don't run unless I'm in mortal danger. Like from a giant meat cleaver or a chainsaw. And yes, I do watch too many horror flicks.  
  
I skid to a stop in front of Legolas. If I hadn't put my hand on his chest to stop him, I don't think he would've seen me. I smile at him, but at the expression on his face, the smile slips a bit.  
  
"What?" I ask, laying my hand on his wrist. "What's wrong?"  
  
He doesn't answer, just lowers his eyes to his hand. It's clenched in a tight fist, and I know what I'm going to see even before I pull his fingers away.  
  
Arwen's pendant. Which Aragorn would never, ever part with, and everybody knows it.  
  
Shit. Here come the doubts again.  
  
I close his hand back over the pendant and meet his eyes. "Oh." I run a hand through my hair. "OK. I have...stuff. Yeah."  
  
I turn and all but flee.  
  
TBC... 


	20. It's A Guy Thing

I have not seen Legolas or Gimli in hours. Eowyn's all tearful, but like she's trying to be strong and failing.  
  
Come ON, chick, you didn't even KNOW him that well. Get over it, already.  
  
Me, I'm having the same problems I had with Merry and Pippin. What if me saving Boromir somehow changed everything? What if Aragorn's dead?  
  
If he is, Arwen is going to kill me.  
  
Arg, I hate this. There has to be something else to do.  
  
Someone puts a hand on my shoulder, and I'm spinning, fist clenched, before I even think about it. Luckily, Legolas catches my wrist before my fist makes contact with his pretty face.  
  
Boromir arches an eyebrow at me. "Are you all right, Kayli?"  
  
I yank my fist out of Legolas's grip. "Do I fucking look all right?" I mutter.  
  
The two of them exchange a glance. What is up with this? They never get along this well. Maybe they're united in grief? Nah, too much to ask for.  
  
"No," Boromir says. "You don't look all right, which makes me ask another question. What is wrong?"  
  
I roll my eyes. "We're all about to be slaughtered. What could possibly be wrong?"  
  
"That's your problem?" Boromir asks. He sounds surprised.  
  
"How would my imminent death NOT be my problem, Boromir?" I demand, hands on hips.  
  
"Battle is a...how do you say...MANLY concern," Legolas says softly, amused.  
  
I give him an irritated look. He shrugs. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me. This is so stupid!"  
  
"How so?" Boromir asks, folding his arms across his chest and assuming a patronizing expression.  
  
Legolas actually winces.  
  
I glare at him. "Don't fucking look at me like that, Boromir. I may not be a great big warrior, but I still know stupid when I see it. He has all the women locked back in the caves."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Mothers whose children are in danger are a truly fierce thing," Legolas says softly.  
  
Once more, the Elf and I are on the same page.  
  
"Women have no place in battle," Boromir says firmly. "It is their place to prepare for the return of their men."  
  
I stare at him, then turn to look at Legolas. "Is he serious?"  
  
Legolas holds out his hands but nods. "Yes, 'tis the way of Men."  
  
I turn back and look at Boromir, I look in his eyes, and it hurts. It hurts because I love him. Not mad passionate love, but big-brother kind of love, and we're going to fight. Oh, yes. We're going to have a huge blow-out about whether or not I'm too woman to fight.  
  
I smile sadly and shake my head at him. "We're going to fight about this, aren't we?"  
  
He shakes his head. "Fight about what?"  
  
"She wants to fight," Legolas explains. He's talking slowly. I think he's getting irritated.  
  
Gimli comes wandering up. "What are ye all talking about?"  
  
"Kayli wants to fight in the upcoming battle," Legolas says again. He leans back against the wall, looking tired.  
  
"Good for her," Gimli says gruffly. "Be good to have the lass at our backs."  
  
Boromir sputters.  
  
Legolas sighs and rubs his temples.  
  
"That's absurd!" Boromir explodes, glaring at both of them. "She's a woman!"  
  
"Good eye," I say sarcastically, glaring at him.  
  
"Women are not warriors," he snarls at me.  
  
"She was warrior enough to save your life," Gimli reminds him.  
  
Remind me I owe Gimli a big ol' kiss.  
  
Boromir frowns at him.  
  
I throw up my arms. "What IS this, Boromir? What the hell is going on?"  
  
"This is not like you," Legolas says softly. "You have had no problem 'til now."  
  
Boromir shakes his head. "I do not want her to fight."  
  
"Got that part," I snap.  
  
"I'm worried. I'm afraid for you. I agree that you are quite skilled with your blades, but in the middle of an orc army, what happens if you have no one to guard your back?" Boromir wraps an arm around my shoulders. "You are a dear friend, akin to the sister I never had. I would not lose you."  
  
"We will all watch over her," Legolas says. "She will emerge from the battle alive."  
  
Gimli snorts. "I'm more worried about the rest of us then the lass."  
  
I lean my head against Boromir's shoulder. "I hate this. I hate waiting."  
  
Legolas sighs. "We are backed into a corner."  
  
I nod and pull away. "I'm going to go see if Eowyn needs any more help getting the people settled in."  
  
I wander away.  
  
~  
  
I'm piling food and clothing aside for the wounded when Eowyn suddenly grabs my arm. "He has returned," she says, her voice joyful.  
  
My head jerks up.  
  
There's Aragorn, looking utterly filthy and beaten, but alive, wonderfully alive.  
  
I grin and push off the wall, walking over to them. Legolas sees me coming and steps back. Aragorn turns to face me, and I throw my arms around his neck, laughing. "You stupid bastard, don't DO that," I say, laughing into his shoulder. I push away from him, looking him over critically. "Ug, you look awful."  
  
He glances at the Elf, looking amused. "So I've been told."  
  
"Trust your appearance to be the first thing that occurs to women and Elves," Boromir says from behind us. He's grinning.  
  
He and Aragorn clasp hands. "I need to find the King," Aragorn says seriously. "An army marches this way."  
  
I sigh. "Great. Just what this day needed. Imminent doom."  
  
TBC... 


	21. Yay, Elves!

Thanks and replies are at the end! I so love you all!  
  
~  
  
Chapter 18  
  
~  
  
I sigh and rub the back of my neck. I am currently handing out weapons, helping to arm little boys and men old enough to be my grandfather. I've pulled on a chain mail shirt, and bracers, and I'm wearing my weapons in the open. The little boys are looking at me and Aragorn and the warriors of Rohan with open admiration. The looks they give Legolas and Gimli are nervous.  
  
Me, I'm scared absolutely shitless. But I certainly don't let Boromir see that. He'd like, take it was a victory.  
  
I look up when Legolas and Aragorn start to argue. I sigh, and Boromir and I exchange a glance. We've noticed the looks that Legolas has been giving our not-exactly-impressive little army. He doesn't think we can win. Guess what?  
  
Neither do I.  
  
"Then I shall die as one of them!" Aragorn yells, then storms away.  
  
"Great," Boromir mutters.  
  
I nod. "Yeah."  
  
"We're going to die," Boromir mutters.  
  
I nod again.  
  
Boromir sighs. "I miss Faramir."  
  
I glance at him. "Faramir. Your brother?"  
  
He nods this time. "Yes. Father should have sent him on this errand. He would have resist the temptation of the Ring."  
  
I touch his shoulder. "I've said it before, and I'll probably have to say it a few more hundred times, it wasn't your fault."  
  
He smiles and kisses my cheek. "I wish I believed you."  
  
~  
  
It is going to rain. This entire joint is going to smell like rust. Ew.  
  
I'm huddled outside, by the wall, watching the men hurry by. Aragorn is pacing, suiting up for the coming battle. Gimli's with Legolas, out by the wall, scouting. Boromir is helping the people back into the caves. With Eowyn. Theoden's starting to look a little panicked.  
  
What fun. Yay. Note the joy.  
  
I push away from the wall, and run my hands through my hair. This is going to be so many levels of suck. I head back to the armory. Legolas and Aragorn are talking quietly, and Gimli is suiting up. Boromir's tossing his sword from hand to hand, like he's testing the balance or making sure he has use of both arms, or something.  
  
And no, Gimli doesn't have the too-long mail shirt. He looks like a battle- hungry dwarf. In mail that fits. Honestly, The Gimli Two Towers Comedy Loop kinda bugged me. The Dwarf's a warrior, folks, not comedy relief.  
  
Aragorn turns and frowns at me. "You are dressed to go to battle."  
  
I groan. "Not you, too."  
  
He gives me a confused look.  
  
Legolas grins. There's a gleam in his eyes that I can't quite identify. Like he's looking forward to the coming battle. I always knew Elves were crazy. "She and Boromir discussed the fact that perhaps she should not participate."  
  
"Lass didn't take that suggestion too well," Gimli chuckles.  
  
Boromir winces. "I shall never make a similar suggestion. Next time she may not be so charitable as to allow me to keep my head."  
  
I look from Boromir, to Gimli, to Legolas. Boromir and Gimli both look grim and determined, like Aragorn, but there's a gleam in their eyes that Aragorn doesn't have. Anticipation.  
  
And Legolas...well, he looks gorgeous. But I'm probably not an unbiased source. But let's not go there, huh? The possibilities in that are too grim to think about before my nearly-inevitable death.  
  
But he has that same look. That battle-ready gleam.  
  
I shake my head. "You guys are enjoying this way too much."  
  
Aragorn glances at them, smiling slightly. "Battle holds a certain zest for our companions, my Lady."  
  
Boromir laughs. "Battle I understand! 'Tis the politics of running anything that bother me!"  
  
Legolas nods in agreement. Gimli just snorts. "Politics I doubt I shall have to worry about."  
  
"Lucky you," Legolas says wryly.  
  
Aragorn's attention has remained fixed on me, just a steady, unnerving stare. I wonder if he picked that look up from Elrond. "What?" I ask, sounding almost as irritable as I feel.  
  
"Why do you wish to fight?" Aragorn asks. "It is possible that you will perish."  
  
I shrug and study my feet. "I...just have to."  
  
"Why?" Aragorn presses. "To prove your valor? For honor and acclaim?"  
  
I can't help it; I start to laugh. "Aragorn, I'm sorry, but I don't give a flying fuck at a rolling doughnut about honor or valor. Or acclaim or song or any of that other crap."  
  
I mean, c'mon. That's strictly Eowyn's department.  
  
"Then why?"  
  
I sigh and run a hand through my hair. "Maybe because me being out there can save somebody else. Maybe I can take out a couple bad guys. And if me dying out there can save just one little boy from dying the same way, I will gladly jump in front of that orc."  
  
There's a long silence. Then Aragorn leans forward and places a hand on my shoulder. "That is honor, and that is true courage, for these are not your people."  
  
I frown, chewing on my lip. "But they ARE. I mean, I wasn't born here, or anything like that, but..." I shake my head. "I'm going to fight and maybe die beside them. That makes them my people."  
  
Aragorn nods slowly. "Agreed."  
  
Oooh, a HORN. Gee, I wonder who that could be.  
  
Legolas looks up sharply. Boromir's hand has dropped to the horn at his own waist. "That is no orc horn," the Elf says softly, and then heads up the stairs. We all troop after him.  
  
~  
  
Look! Elves! Bunches and bunches of Elves!  
  
And it's that guy – remember, the one from 'Lorien? The cranky border guy? Yeah, him. He's got that...nose.  
  
And I still can't remember his damn name. ARG! And I even asked Legolas before we left 'Lorien!  
  
"Haldir!" Aragorn calls.  
  
Yes! That's it! Haldir! Ha!  
  
"Mae govannen!" Aragorn says, and hugs him.  
  
Legolas clears his throat. Haldir looks surprised, but then returns it, really awkwardly, like it's been a long time since he hugged anybody. Then he and Legolas clap each other on the shoulders, and Haldir turns back to Theoden. "We are proud to fight along side Men once more."  
  
Yay! Reinforcements!  
  
TBC...  
  
~  
  
Snorkle -- *starts to panic* Misspelled words? WHERE? *thwacks her computer* Goddamn you, spell check...Thanks so much!  
  
Girl Tree – Here it is! I know, men suck, don't they? Is it OK? Absolutely. I would love for this guy to meet me. I'd kick his ass. I don't wear girlie clothes. Ever. Thanks hugely!  
  
Andrew Joshua Talon – Thanks again! If you don't stop, my head's gonna explode. *winces* I don't mean for it to happen, really I don't...But she likes him! And there will be no heavy-duty tongue hockey. Scout's honor. And thank you! Hugely! PS. Would you happen to know where they met the Rangers?  
  
MiniMoose – Gollum? You have Gollum? Damn you. I was lookin' for him. Thank you so much!  
  
Soymaid – Thanks! Hugely! I'm hoping that if Kayli's insistent on falling for Legolas, that it doesn't get too grody. Hmm...recommendations... "Out Of The Frying Pan, Into The Fire" & "Cantrip," both by bryn bnw. "Brothers In Arms," by The Nightrunners, which is a modern-day Fellowship fic. Breadboxes by Evadne. "The Scruff Factor" by JastaElf. "Quarantined" by Shirebound. Enough? I think I could find more! All of these can be found on ff.net.  
  
Becca – Thank you! Thank you so much! You kick so much ass!  
  
Catherine Maria – *evil laughter* You'll see, you'll see...Pfft. Talk about a screw-up...that kid in the movie was like five years YOUNGER than Eomer... Thanks so much!  
  
True Maven – I'm trying! And thanks!  
  
BtchieChrissy – OK, please don't beg! It's here!  
  
Sylvia Viridian – Oh, come on, who COULDN'T love Grima? Hee. And as for the ear-blowing...I think we'll find out some more about THAT later. Leggy-boy. Leggy-boy. I love it. Thanks!  
  
Anime no Megami – Don't worry, chill, the battle's coming! Blood and gore and explosions! Thanks!  
  
ADC – Thank you so much! We'll find out more about the ears later.  
  
Ainu lote – Don't worry about Gimli and his kisses. There'll be plenty of Gimli in the next chapters.  
  
Meee – I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! My family thinks I'm completely bonkers too, so don't worry 


	22. Elves And Men And Orcses

~  
  
Chapter 19  
  
~  
  
I KNEW it was going to rain. I just knew it.  
  
All the Men and Elves are lining the battlements. I'm standing in between Legolas and some random Elf. Gimli's on the other side of Legolas, grumbling. Surprise, surprise.  
  
Haldir's striding along, making sure all of his Men...um, Elves... People? Yeah, people. Making sure all of his people are in place. He stops to speak to us for a moment. "Let us hope we can defeat these beasts. 'Tis truly a vast force."  
  
"Right little ray of sunshine, aren't you?" I ask sarcastically.  
  
"Well, I DO like to be cheerful," he shoots back.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. What took you so long to get here, anyway? Did you walk real slow?" I ask. I figure I can dig into him and all he'll do is dish back. He's a pretty cool guy, if you look past the seemingly super-glued-on arrogant expression.  
  
"Perhaps it simply took me a while to find my clothes," he returns easily, leaning on his bow.  
  
I giggle. "I had nothing to do with that. It was SO Merry & Pippin."  
  
"Riiight. That's why you were laughing so hard," Legolas interjects dryly.  
  
I mock-glare at him. "I didn't say it wasn't funny. I mean, how often do you see an Elf run through 'Lorien wearing nothing but a towel?"  
  
"It was not funny," Haldir snaps.  
  
"Celeborn thought it was funny." Which is true. I didn't think I would EVER see an Elf-Lord lose his composure like that.  
  
"My Lord has odd notions," Haldir says dryly. "My Lady found it most amusing as well."  
  
"Always happy to serve," I reply.  
  
"I thought you had nothing to do with it?" That from Gimli.  
  
I just grin.  
  
Haldir shakes his head and claps me on the shoulder. "Good luck."  
  
"You, too, beautiful," I reply.  
  
He pauses, glances at me, then shakes his head and walks away.  
  
Legolas is looking at me out of the corner of his eye. "Is there truly nothing that will make you lose your sense of humor?"  
  
I pause and think about that for a second. "Well...a death in the family. Other than that, not much, no. It's what keeps me sane."  
  
Gimli spends a couple of seconds hopping. "You could've picked a better spot," he mutters. Legolas smirks.  
  
Aragorn and Boromir hurry up. Boromir takes up position on the other side of Gimli. Aragorn's just pausing in his big leaderly things to talk to us peons.  
  
"Well, laddie, whatever luck you live by, let's hope it lasts out the night," Gimli says.  
  
"Yeah, no shit," I mutter. You know that old joke, if not for bad luck I wouldn't have any luck at all? Unfortunately, for almost all of my family, it holds all too true. Now do you see why I never think I'm going to live out the day?  
  
"Your friends are with you, Aragorn," Legolas says.  
  
"Let's hope they last out the night," Gimli adds.  
  
"Speaking of right little rays of sunshine," Legolas says softly. I giggle.  
  
Aragorn claps Legolas on the shoulder and moves off. I roll my neck. This is not going to be fun.  
  
Aragorn paces back and forth behind the Elves for a moment. Then he stills and starts to speak. "A Eruchîn, ú-dano i faelas a hyn an uben tanatha le faelas!"  
  
"Show them no mercy, for you shall receive none," I whisper, ignoring the look Legolas gives me. Especially since he knows I don't speak Elvish. I pull my knives, just to feel the comforting weight in my hands.  
  
And now, brought to you courtesy of the Invading Uruk-hai Army, we have the Little Uruk Dance. All they're doing is growling and drooling and shifting and banging their spears on the ground.  
  
And it starts to rain. Fucking beautiful.  
  
Gimli's doing some more hopping on the other side of Legolas. "What's happening out there?"  
  
"Would you like me to describe it to you? Or would you rather I found you a box?"  
  
The two of them grin at each other. Male bonding at it's best.  
  
If they were human, I would roll my eyes and mutter "MEN!"  
  
I watch as an arrow flies out and takes one of the Uruks in the neck. Finally. One thing I really hate to do is wait.  
  
They roar and charge.  
  
Oh, shit.  
  
TBC... 


	23. Ladies And Gentlemen, The Battle Of Helm...

~  
  
Chapter 20  
  
~  
  
"Legolas!" Gimli yells. "Two already!"  
  
"I'm on seventeen!" the Elf yells back.  
  
"Arg! I'll have no pointy-ear outscoring me!" He turns and whacks another Uruk. "Three!"  
  
"Nineteen!" This from Legolas.  
  
Me, I'm on six. Not bad for my second battle, no?  
  
Boromir's off to one side. We exchange a grin when we hear Gimli bellow "Six!"  
  
Once you get the hang of this whole battle thing, well, it's still not easy, but you don't feel like you're completely lost and going to die. At least I don't. Hell, I'm even trying to keep count of the Orcs. Uruk-hai. Sorry, they're Uruk-hai.  
  
And, anyway, Boromir and I aren't doing so bad. We're manage to hold our little section of the wall. Us and Gimli. Legolas is just all over the place.  
  
"Dago han, Legolas! Dago han! Dago han!"  
  
Oh, shit. I look over to see the first arrow thud into the Uruk's shoulder, the second into the other shoulder. I grab Boromir's tunic. "Run! Everybody, move! Run!"  
  
"Kayli, what – " Boromir begins, but I'm already running. He follows.  
  
A few seconds later, the wall explodes.  
  
~  
  
Ouch. Boy, did that EVER hurt.  
  
I push my way to my hands and knees, cradling my head. "Fucking hate orcs," I mutter.  
  
"I think the feeling's mutual," Boromir says from next to me. "Seeing as how the tried to blow us up."  
  
I grin at him and start to look around. Just in time to see Gimli charge off the battlements.  
  
"Gimli!" I yell, and then start to mutter all the curse words I can remember from the twins.  
  
"Dammit," Boromir moans.  
  
We both scramble to our feet as we see more Uruks heading our way.  
  
Damn.  
  
~  
  
"Aragorn! Fall back to the Keep! Get your men our of there!"  
  
It's been...ten or fifteen minutes since the wall went. Boromir and I were separated. If he dies, I'll kill him.  
  
Yes, I realize that doesn't make any sense.  
  
And, y'know, I'd probably be better off if there weren't so many fucking orcs everywhere.  
  
One of them turns on me and snarls, or maybe that's a smile? Whatever. It brings up his sword and charges. I cross my blades, bring them up for the block, then drop when down and open his stomach. Then duck, sidestep, slash. See? Rhythm.  
  
I kill two more, and manage to break through the seemingly solid wall of flesh between me and the Keep. I look up in time to see one of the Uruks go for Haldir. "Haldir! Behind you!"  
  
He glances at me, then ducks and rolls quickly, coming back up with his sword in hand.  
  
Yeah, remember my little non-interference thing? That's kinda out the window. Ooops. Behold my complete lack of regret.  
  
It takes a couple of minutes, but I manage to battle my way to Haldir's side, Boromir coming up next to me. "We must pull back to the Keep," Haldir says. He sounds very important. I think it's that funky accent.  
  
We run.  
  
~  
  
Eventually, we have to run out of furniture. I mean, it's bound to happen at some point, right?  
  
Of course, by then we'll probably have a wall a hundred yards thick between us and the approaching army.  
  
"The fortress is taken," Théoden says. "It is over."  
  
"You said this castle would never fall as long as your Men defended it!" Aragorn yells, suddenly just exploding. "They still defend it! They have died defending it!"  
  
Legolas glances back over his shoulder. Our eyes lock for a moment, but I have no idea what to make of his expression. It looks almost like...regret?  
  
Geez, everybody is just so down about this.  
  
"There's one pass," Gamling is saying when I turn back to the King. "It leads back into the mountains. But they will not get far, the Uruk-hai are too many."  
  
And I thought Haldir was cynical.  
  
This rant stuff? Yeah. This is blood loss. I have a really deep gash on my arm from shoving my way through the orcs. Luckily I got all that practice with the lunchlines in elementary school. I was a skinny little kid. They thought that meant weak. Heh.  
  
Most of the time, they were right.  
  
"Send word for the women and children to make for the mountain pass," Aragorn orders, "and barricade the entrance."  
  
"So much death," Théoden muses, sounding like he's just thinking out loud. "What can Men do against such reckless hate?"  
  
Aragorn studies the King intently. "Ride out with me," he says suddenly, his eyes lighting up like Boromir's and Legolas's and Gimli's. "Ride out and meet them."  
  
The King's eyes light up once more. "For death and glory."  
  
I almost hear Legolas roll his eyes.  
  
"For Rohan," Aragorn presses. "For your people."  
  
"The sun is rising," Gimli says softly, like he's afraid to break the aura of determined stupidity that hangs over the room.  
  
No, I know that it's necessary to ride out and meet them. I understand that it's a distraction that will allow Gandalf to arrive and take all the big uglies outside the door by surprise. I get it. It's just...  
  
Why be so fucking EAGER to ride out and meet your doom? WHY?  
  
Sorry, had a moment there.  
  
"Yes," Théoden says, suddenly looking very determined. "Yes! The horn of Helm Hammerhand shall sound in the deep one last time."  
  
Gimli grins and runs for the stairs. If he thinks at all like I do, he's probably thinking something along the lines of 'thank God/the Valar/insert your favorite Deity here that I don't have to ride out with these morons.'  
  
Somehow, I don't think my Dwarven friend thinks like I do.  
  
I watch as they gather their horses and gear. Théoden just keeps on talking. He's like the King that wouldn't shut up. "Let this be the hour when we draw swords together. Fell deeds awake. Now for wrath! Now for ruin! And a red dawn!"  
  
Does anybody but him know what the freaking hell he's babbling about?  
  
Boromir looks at me, and I hold up my hands. "No, Mommy, I'm not going to ride out and play with the Orcs."  
  
"Your word," he says evenly, and I know that this means more than what it would to someone from my world. Especially since promises don't mean shit in my world.  
  
"Yes, you have my word. Go. Hack. Chop. Play. Have fun."  
  
He grins at me and mounts his horse. Gimli blows the horn. Théoden bellows 'forth Eorlingas!' And everybody rides out.  
  
I wrap my arms around my waist and slide down the wall, feeling the blood from the deep cut on my side. Oh, did I forget to mention that one? Oops.  
  
I close my eyes. This way I can't see the room move. Oy.  
  
~  
  
I open my eyes a few minutes later and glare at Gimli, who's shaking my shoulder. "Wake up, lass. Gandalf's here to save th' day."  
  
"Gandalf. Fucking FINALLY."  
  
Gimli snorts. "Aye, aye. Heard a few stories from my father about that one. Always disappears when ye need him the most."  
  
I roll my eyes at that. "No, really? I NEVER would've guessed."  
  
Gimli grins at me, then peers at the gash on my arm. "That the only one?"  
  
I smile nervously. "Yes?"  
  
He folds his arm across his chest. I meet his eyes and manage not to flinch. He smirks at me through his beard. "All right, then, I'll just have Aragorn take a look at ye. Or maybe the Elf?"  
  
I glare at him. "Why would I have a problem with Legolas looking at my arm?"  
  
He laughs at me. "I think the Elf'd rather look at things that have nothin' to do with yer arm!"  
  
I shake my head and push my way, rather unsteadily, to my feet. "Everyone's gone crazy," I tell him. "Everyone but me, and please believe me when I say this is not a situation that I am used to."  
  
Gimli grins at me and pats my arm. "If ye say so, lass. If ye say so."  
  
What the FUCK is wrong with these people?  
  
TBC... 


	24. Welcome To Isengard!

~  
  
Chapter 21  
  
~  
  
Dead orcs? They really do make rather comfortable chairs.  
  
The battle is over. Fucking finally. Gandalf rode in with Mr. Testosterone and about two thousand of his closest friends and saved the day. Aragorn and Legolas and Boromir all went and kicked ass and took names and had lots and lots of Manly and Elfly fun.  
  
Males. Of any species. They are all the same. They like blood and guts and sharp toys.  
  
So, currently, I am sitting outside the Keep, reclining on a dead Uruk-hai, listening to Gimli and Legolas banter and just basking in the sunshine. Well, as much as one can bask in the sunshine when you are surrounded by a pile of completely grody Uruk corpses.  
  
"I beat ye, lad," Gimli's saying as I check briefly back into reality. "Ye're just gonna have to live with it."  
  
"Live with it?" Legolas asks, arching an eyebrow.  
  
And he makes even THAT look just as sexy as hell. Maybe I lost more blood than I thought. Which might also be what makes me say the first things that pop into my head. No, wait, I've always done that.  
  
"What he means is that you're going to have to accept that you got your ass kicked by somebody short and hairy," I say, and grin at them.  
  
Gimli laughs. He really is very hard to offend. Legolas just shakes his head. Haldir is sitting off to one side, reclining on a corpse, watching it all with an amused expression.  
  
"Aye, that's what I meant. Now get yer poncy Elvish ass over there and check out the lass's injuries."  
  
I groan and flop my head back against my chair's shoulder. "Yeah, thanks a lot, Gimli."  
  
Legolas is already frowning at me. "You are injured? Where?"  
  
I sigh and hold out my arm. He comes over and crouches in front of me, pulling some bandages and herbs from the bag at his waist and a canteen or whatever you wanna call it from somewhere and frowning at the gash on my arm.  
  
I don't know why. It's not like he hasn't seen a billion like it this morning. I mean, tending the wounded is what we've been doing all bloody morning. We've been tending the wounded and carting around the dead and making room for the living. And we'll ride in some of the patrols later this evening, rounding up whatever the trees didn't eat.  
  
I wince as Legolas rinses out the cut. "Shouldn't someone else be doing that? Like Aragorn or Eowyn or...somebody who's not you?"  
  
"Aragorn is busy, tending the wounded, as is Lady Eowyn. I fear I am all you have, my Lady," he says stiffly, and I realize I've offended him.  
  
I touch his wrist. "Sorry."  
  
He shakes his head and ties off the bandage. "No, I apologize, Kayli. I have not had rest for several days. I am..."  
  
"Cranky," I finish, and grin at him.  
  
Boromir limps towards us, trying to walk straight despite the cut on his thigh. "King Theoden is quite insistent that all that can, ride come morning. Can we be ready?"  
  
Legolas nods, looking tired, and Gimli grunts his assent. Boromir turns to Haldir. "What of you, my Lord? Will you return with your archers to Lothlorien?"  
  
Haldir shakes his head. "No, I will remain with Aragorn and his companions for as long as he is of a mind to allow it. And then some more, just to irritate him."  
  
I laugh. Hey, at least he's honest.  
  
Boromir turns towards me, looking concerned and brotherly. "Will you be well enough to ride come morning?"  
  
I nod. "Yes, Mother."  
  
"Are you being truthful?"  
  
"Would I lie to you?" I ask mildly, and Legolas coughs lightly.  
  
"If it served your purpose? Aye. In a heartbeat."  
  
"You know me too well," I respond. "But, no, I'm not lying. I'm fine."  
  
"Where do we ride?" Haldir asks, cutting in before Boromir can go off on his tangent.  
  
"Isengard," he answers. "Gandalf says that perhaps Merry & Pippin await us there."  
  
I look up quickly, and grin at him. "Great! When do we go again?"  
  
~  
  
Ugh. No offense, Hershey, but I hate horses.  
  
Yes, I named my horse Hershey. Shut up. Eomer never told me his name.  
  
Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Gandalf, and Eomer are crowded around Theoden, holding a conference or something, so I'm riding with Eowyn, who's pouting at being excluded.  
  
And we're RIDING. Yay. I have blisters in places I don't even want to think about.  
  
Eowyn gives Aragorn one last look and heaves a great sigh. I roll my eyes. She turns to me.  
  
"Tell me about him."  
  
"Who?" I ask, as though I don't know. "Gimli?"  
  
She frowns at me. "No, Lord Aragorn."  
  
I sigh. "Dunedan. Great tracker. Warrior. Leader. What do you want to know?"  
  
Legolas and Gimli break away from King Théoden and drop back to ride with us. Legolas says nothing, just watches with a slightly amused expression.  
  
I rake my hair back off my face. "Are would you rather hear all about the Lady he's betrothed to?"  
  
Eowyn fidgets in her saddle, and I know this is what she wanted to talk about. She wants to hear all about the 'competition.' Oh, honey, there is NO competition. Arwen's got you beat six ways to Sunday and then some.  
  
"Lord Aragorn said that she has sailed with the rest of her kin."  
  
Legolas coughs lightly. "Ain't gonna happen," I say.  
  
"Do you truly think not?" Legolas asks.  
  
I shake my head. "You're all hopeless. I'm gonna go bug Aragorn. Figure it out yourselves."  
  
If I am ever that pathetic, God, just nail me with a lightning bolt, ok?  
  
~  
  
I AM that pathetic. Any time you're ready, there, God.  
  
I'm in love. Ain't that a kick in the head. Especially since it's that fucking Elf. I mean, he's a drastic change - definitely for the better - from Devin, who turned out gay, and Jared, who cheated on me with his stepsister, and Damien, who was engaged. Yeah, my taste in men isn't the best.  
  
Oooh, look, a big, pointy black tower. As Shrek would say, do you think he's compensating for something?  
  
And there are Merry and Pippin, relaxing and smoking. Merry stands up. Pippin just waves. "My Lords," Merry says dramatically, "welcome to Isengard."  
  
Gimli growls. Yes, growls. It's hilarious. "A merry hunt ye've led us on, and when we finally find ye, ye're sitting around, eating! And smoking! Rascals."  
  
"We are relaxing upon the field of victory, enjoying the spoils of war," Pippin corrects.  
  
I giggle.  
  
"Hobbits," Gandalf sighs, and rolls his eyes.  
  
"We're under orders," Merry says defensively. "From Treebeard, who's taken up management of Isengard."  
  
Holy shit. It's a talking tree.  
  
Boromir's frozen in his saddle, and Legolas's eyes have gone very large. Gimli's the only one who doesn't look impressed. He's already stumped his way over to the Hobbits, demanding pipeweed. I slide down from my horse and hurry over.  
  
I drop down next to them, throw one arm around Merry and the other around Pippin, and give each one a sound, smacking kiss on the cheek. "Gimli's right," I say. "You're both rascals."  
  
I pause a moment, and look closer. "Is it just me, or have you two grown?"  
  
They grin at each other.  
  
"Must just be you, Miss Kayli," Pippin says. He looks over my shoulder, and his grin nearly takes in his ears. "Boromir!" he shouts, right in my ear, and bolts, Merry right behind him.  
  
I watch for a moment as Boromir drops down to hug the 'little ones' and they start telling him all about their adventures in high, excited voices, and I can't help but smile.  
  
Gimli plops down next to me, puffing on his pipe contentedly. "Happiest I've ever seen that lad," he says, and I nod in agreement.  
  
Let's get some happiness in. I have a feeling things are really gonna suck later.  
  
TBC...  
  
True Maven – Ah, I live but to serve. I'm glad you're enjoying. And, you have to admit, Kayli doesn't think like the rest of us, now does she? Ah, our favoritest Elf. What would she do without all the angst?  
  
Girl Tree – I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Here's some more! Thank you!  
  
Sylvia Viridian – Thanks! I try. And I'll try the story as soon as I can...but, yeah. Busy. Work SUCKS! Burger King is one of Satan's major triumphs, did you know that? Right after junk mail, porno spam, and McNuggets. Thank you so much!  
  
Arsinoe Selene – She DOES seem to be a bit cranky, doesn't she? I can't imagine why. Must be hormones. Thanks!  
  
Andrew Joshua Talon – Well, she's explained to me that she tends to kinda space during battle. Besides, I'm saving all the battle excitement for Pelennor. Also, I met the Dunedain for the Rangers. And I figured that out. Thanks so much!  
  
Catherine Maria – I KNOW! Doesn't that just drive you NUTS? Poor Dwarf. And I couldn't kill Haldir. He's too wonderfully sarcastic. Hmm. Ah, yes, Boromir. Heh. Wouldn't YOU like to know! Thank you so much!  
  
Nepthys5 – No kidding. MEN. Ug. And thanks!  
  
ADC – Oh, Leilanni'll show up eventually. Thanks again! You rock!  
  
Anime no Megami – I just want you to know that Yami Me kinda scares me. I think it's the villain laugh. Thanks!  
  
Valentia – Let me just say that I am NOT the biggest fan of movie-Faramir. He was NOT a schmuck, and he didn't know anything about the ring. Sorry, had a moment there. Thanks!  
  
Elrohir lover – I try, I really do. Thanks!  
  
BtchieChrissy – Please, no begging! But I will take chocolate! Thanks!  
  
Becca – Isn't that just the most hilarious thing? I owe a Night Mare for that one. I have the ODDEST dreams. Church, huh? Well. Have...fun? Is that what you tell somebody when they're going to church? Thanks!  
  
Ainu lote – Thanks again! You rock!  
  
Snorkle – Phew. THAT'S a relief. Thanks!  
  
Eryna Kahn – OK, if I remember my Return of the King right, then the Grey Company would be Halbarad and E2 and the Dunedain, right? If so, then it's a definite possibility. I'm trying to work it in! Thanks so much! 


	25. Oooh, Shiny!

~  
  
Chapter 22  
  
~  
  
For some reason, no matter what universe you're in, once you get a group of people celebrating victory and the lives of the dead, they always wanna party. I think to make sure they're still alive. The Irish are the worst.  
  
No, that's not meant in an offensive way. Nobody can celebrate life like the Irish, although the French are good at it, too.  
  
I watch as Théoden raises his tankard. "All hail the victorious dead!"  
  
"Hail!" the Rohirrim yell back, and drink deeply.  
  
I set mine aside and slip out the door. This is in so many ways not my idea of a good time. I don't even LIKE alcohol. Besides, it beats the crap out of watching Eowyn hit on Aragorn and the Hobbits dance on tables. And Gandalf bopping.  
  
Gandalf. Bopping. It was very disturbing.  
  
"Kayli?" says a quiet voice right by my shoulder, and I try not to jump out of my SKIN.  
  
Bad Elf! Bad!  
  
"Legolas," I say, very carefully, "we've talked about this. Could you not sneak up on me, please?"  
  
I look back at him, and he's smiling. I wish he wouldn't do that. It makes my stomach feel all funny. Like I'm gonna throw up.  
  
I had this conversation with one of my friends about a year ago, after I had a bad breakup. This would be Jared, 'I'm sorry honey, but I knocked up my stepsister.'  
  
It went something like this. "You know you're in love. You get this funny feeling in your stomach, like the room's spinning really fast and your stomach's in your throat."  
  
My response: "You mistook nausea for love? And you MARRIED him?"  
  
The moral of the story: Love really does make you feel like you're gonna throw up. Ain't it grand?  
  
A gentle hand touches my face, and I come back to reality with a rather unpleasant lurch, to find Legolas staring at me with concern. "Are you quite all right? You look...troubled."  
  
I let out a quiet laugh. It doesn't sound like I think something's funny, but, hey, since when is a sharp stabbing pain not humorous?  
  
I've completely lost what little mind I had to begin with.  
  
"I beg your pardon?" Legolas asks.  
  
Ooops. Did I say that last bit out loud?  
  
"I assure you, Kayli, you are quite sane."  
  
This time I DO laugh. That WAS funny. And I thought he kinda knew me. Hah!  
  
I shake my head and pull out of his grasp. "I'm alright, Legolas. It's just..." I shake my head again and squeeze his hand. "I'm fine. Thank you."  
  
I walk away.  
  
I don't hear Legolas move, but when I glance back, he's gone.  
  
Stinking, stealthy Elves.  
  
~  
  
Gandalf, Boromir, the Hobbits and I are all camped with the Rohirrim. I'm sleeping between Boromir and the Hobbits. God only knows where Gimli is.  
  
I snap awake when I hear the doors slam open in the hall, rolling to my feet with a knife in hand. Ah, those warrior instincts.  
  
The next thing I notice would be the shiny, FLAMING black ball in Pippin's hands.  
  
"Pippin!" Boromir yells, trying to get to his feet.  
  
Everything kind of slows down for a minute. I see Gandalf snap awake, and I watch as Aragorn wrestles the ball away from Pip, but then gets caught in Sauron's eye.  
  
Oh, this is SO charming.  
  
Boromir and Legolas finally manage to wrestle Aragorn's hands free of the giant marble, and I toss my blanket over it. Boromir gives me a nod and a tiny smile.  
  
And here comes Gandalf, about as reassuring as a blizzard. He grabs Merry by the shoulder and tosses him aside like yesterday's trash.  
  
Jesus, y'know, there, Whitey, some days I really fucking hate you.  
  
I kneel down next to Merry, wrapping both of my arms around his shoulders, even thought I have a knife in one hand.  
  
"Look at me," Gandalf says.  
  
Pippin just lays there and shakes, tears rolling down his face. Merry hides his head in my shoulder. "Gandalf, forgive me!" he sobs, and tries to close his eyes.  
  
"Look at me, Peregrin Took! What did you see?"  
  
There's a long pause, and Pippin seems to be calming down, thank God.  
  
"I saw...a tree," he whispers. "A white tree, in a stone courtyard." Another pause. "It was dead." He shivers. "The city was burning."  
  
"Minas Tirith," Boromir whispers.  
  
Oh, crap. Another field trip.  
  
~  
  
"I thought perhaps... I could control it," Aragorn is saying quietly a few hours later.  
  
I roll my eyes. "No, instead you just let him get a good, long look at ya. Way to go, doofus."  
  
Haldir mouths the word 'doofus.'  
  
Aragorn turns and looks at me. "I beg your pardon?"  
  
I wave a hand at him. "Don't do that. I hate to see a grown man beg."  
  
He mutters something under his breath that I'm quite sure is obscene. "If you have nothing of value –"  
  
"He's afraid," I interrupt. "We have the one thing on our side that could REALLY fuck up his plans for world domination."  
  
"And what is that?" Haldir asks. He sounds amused. He usually does. Like the world's just one big joke, and it's at everybody's expense but his.  
  
Lucky bastard.  
  
I sigh and run a hand through my hair. "Him," I answer, pointing at Aragorn. "The one thing that he would fear would be the Kingdoms of Men uniting against him. The one thing that would make that happen would be a King on the Throne of Gondor. And since Aragorn's the only King we brought along, it's gonna have to be him."  
  
"What brings you to this conclusion?" Gandalf asks sharply.  
  
"Common sense," I snap back. "Unlike most of the other people in this circus act from Hell, I came with some. Now, since Sauron knows all about our not-so-secret weapon, what the hell are we gonna do about it?"  
  
There's a long pause.  
  
"She is blunt," Haldir murmurs, studying his nails.  
  
"She also has a point," Gimli adds, giving me a small smile.  
  
I love that Dwarf. I really, really do.  
  
"We must go to Gondor's aid," Boromir says passionately. After all, isn't that what started this whole mess?  
  
"Why should we go to the aid of those who do not come to ours?" Théoden demands. "What do we owe Gondor?"  
  
I roll my eyes. MEN.  
  
"I will go," Aragorn says suddenly.  
  
"No," Boromir says. "I will go. My father will need some time to get used to the idea that he is going to be replaced."  
  
Oooh, that's right. Denethor's a lunatic. I'd forgotten about that.  
  
"They must be warned," Aragorn agrees.  
  
"They will be," Gandalf says firmly.  
  
~  
  
About two hours later, just after dawn, all the arrangements are hammered out. Boromir, Gandalf, and Pippin will ride to Minas Tirith. They'll light the beacons, and raise the alarm, and send out the cavalry, and the smoke signals and the Morse code and whatever the hell else needs to be done.  
  
One good thing about being a girl? I can have gushy goodbyes. I hug Boromir tightly, and make him promise to be careful, and he gets the same promise out of me. Then I kneel down and hug Pippin, who's on the verge of tears.  
  
"Take care of Merry," he whispers. I nod and kiss his cheek.  
  
Then I get up and go over to talk to Gandalf. I have a few words to say to his Whiteyness.  
  
"Gandalf?" I ask, keeping my voice sweet.  
  
"Yes, child?" he answers.  
  
"How was death?"  
  
He turns and stares at me. "I beg your pardon?"  
  
I smile. "I hope you liked it. 'Cause if anything happens to either one of them, you get to repeat the experience." I smile, stand on my toes, and kiss his cheek. "Have a nice trip."  
  
I turn and walk away. I can hear Gimli chuckling.  
  
TBC... 


	26. Interlude Merry

~  
  
Interlude – Merry  
  
~  
  
I never thought this would happen. Never. If I'd had even the remotest idea, I never would've let him come along. It's too dangerous for him to be out there all alone.  
  
Well, I know he's not alone. He's got Gandalf there to protect him, and Boromir. They'll take care of him.  
  
But, see, we've never really been separated before. We've never been apart for more than a week since Pip was born. So you'll have to understand if this is a little difficult for me.  
  
So I'm just sitting here by the stable, staring out the way Shadowfax went, trying not to remember that that's PIP out there, little PIP, all alone, without me to take care of him.  
  
Kayli comes over and sits down next to me, very carefully. "Are you –" She pauses, shakes her head. "How bad is it?"  
  
I sniffle. "Pretty bad."  
  
She wraps an arm around my shoulders, leans her cheek on my hair. "He'll be all right. He has Boromir and Gandalf to take care of him."  
  
"You don't LIKE Gandalf," I point out.  
  
"I like him well enough. Sometimes I don't like the decisions he makes," she explains.  
  
"We've never really been apart before," I say suddenly, without bothering to stop and wonder why I'm telling her this. She probably has bigger things to worry about than on heartbroken Hobbit.  
  
"It must be tough," she says softly.  
  
I nod. My throat starts to close up. "I'm not there, Kayli. What if he's hungry, or scared, and I'm not there?"  
  
"Boromir's there," she says, smoothing my hair. "He'll take care of Pippin."  
  
I try to talk around the lump in my throat, and I find that I can't. I turn my head into her shoulder and I cry. I can feel her tears fall on my face.  
  
I am so afraid. 


	27. Trick or Treat!

Did I really volunteer for this field trip? God, I really am crazy.  
  
It has been a boring couple of days, mostly spent tending the wounded with Eowyn and worrying. I do a lot of the last one. Somebody has to.  
  
Now, however, lunch with Gimli. Always something to be appreciated. He tells some of the funniest stories.  
  
We both look up as Aragorn comes bursting into the Hall, panting and out of breath. "The Beacons of Minas Tirith! The Beacons are lit!" He looks at King Théoden, a pleading look on his face. "Gondor calls for aid."  
  
Gimli and I exchange a glance. OK, Théoden, King, time to prove you're not an idiot.  
  
"And Rohan shall answer!" Théoden calls out. "Muster the Rohirrim. Gather the army at Dunharrow. You have two days. On the third, we march for Gondor. And war."  
  
Eomer smiles grimly. "Yes, my Lord." He bows, and turns away.  
  
I sigh. "I hate riding."  
  
Gimli chuckles. "Ye've fallen in important times, lass."  
  
"Ugh. Remind me why I ever wanted to do this?"  
  
"Oooh, see the countryside, meet a few people, save the world. What's not to love?" And the Dwarf smirks at me.  
  
I stick my tongue out. "Easy for you to say. You don't have to put up with the LOOKS." I roll my eyes. "Oooh, who would arm a WOMAN?"  
  
He snorts. "Like bein' shaped different means ye can't gut an orc. Dwarf women battle beside the menfolk. So do Elven women."  
  
"So it IS just Men," I reply. "I knew we were behind on SOMETHING."  
  
~  
  
Ah, camp. On a slightly bigger scale than I'm used to, granted, but it's still a familiar process.  
  
"We should've went somewhere else," I mutter.  
  
"Where?" Legolas asks, looking amused.  
  
I nod toward the entrance to the passage. "Wherever that ISN'T." I shiver and try to keep Hershey off my feet. "It's creepy."  
  
I see Eowyn come out of her tent, smiling, shepherding Merry in front of her. "To the smithy with you! Go!"  
  
"You should not encourage him," Eomer says from the fireside.  
  
Eowyn turns and glares at him. "Why should Merry be left behind? He has as much cause to fight as you!"  
  
"More, probably," I mutter, and Legolas elbows me.  
  
"Hush."  
  
"Why can he not fight for those he loves?" Eowyn looks wistful now, and it's directed at Aragorn.  
  
"I do not doubt his heart. I doubt the reach of his arm," Eomer says, and Gamling laughs.  
  
I make a disgusted face. "You're an incredible jackass, did you know that?"  
  
"Kayli!"  
  
I turn and glare at him. "Truth hurts."  
  
"Well, I see some things have not changed," says a familiar voice behind me.  
  
Legolas glances over my shoulder and makes a face. "I was hoping you two wouldn't make it."  
  
I spin around, looking directly into Elladan's smirking face.  
  
I let out a distinctly girlie squeak and throw my arms around him. "Oooh! I've missed you guys!"  
  
Elladan laughs and wraps his arms around my waist, lifting me up easily. "No fear, with us joining you, surely we shall defeat the hordes of Mordor! And still be home in time for dinner."  
  
I make a face at him and go to hug Elrohir.  
  
"Can you be serious for a moment? Or shall I direct my questions at your brother?" Legolas giving Elladan a look that's not quite friendly.  
  
Elladan heaves a great big sigh. "Well, I suppose, your Exalted Highness."  
  
"Can you be serious for two seconds, 'Dan?" Elrohir snaps.  
  
I frown at him. Elrohir isn't usually this short-tempered. "What's wrong? Why are you guys here?"  
  
"We rode in with thirty Rangers of the North, and Father, oddly enough." The twins exchange a long glance, then turn back almost simultaneously. It's so creepy.  
  
"Arwen's dying," Elrohir whispers.  
  
There's a long moment of silence. I take a deep breath. "OK, how?"  
  
Elrohir shrugs helplessly. Elladan glares.  
  
"She has chosen a mortal life," Elrohir says softly. "Somehow...the Shadow drains her energy. Drains her life."  
  
Legolas breaths something that is either a curse or a prayer.  
  
"So what do we do?"  
  
Elladan nods towards the passage under the mountain. "We must follow the Paths of the Dead. The Oathbreakers under the Mountain will answer only to a King."  
  
I wave that off. "That's OK. We brought on of those. What else?"  
  
"She's so blasé about it," Elrohir murmurs.  
  
Elladan shrugs it off. "We ride for Gondor. We destroy the armies of Sauron, destroy the Ring, save the world, and hopefully be home in time for dinner."  
  
Elrohir rolls his eyes.  
  
"You make it sound so easy," Legolas says dryly.  
  
Ok, even I was skeptical about THAT one. "Somehow I don't think it's gonna be that simple. Kudos for effort, though."  
  
Elladan makes a face. "I was afraid you were going to think so."  
  
~  
  
We all wait patiently for Aragorn on the path. He's coming, looking concerned. He looks at us, then at the Twins, and shakes his head. "Not this time, my friends."  
  
I look at Gimli. "Do you wanna tell him, or should I?"  
  
He grins at me. "Get used to the idea, laddie. We're coming with you."  
  
Aragorn opens his mouth to argue. "Do you know nothing of the stubbornness of Dwarves?" Legolas interrupts smoothly.  
  
He shakes his head. "There is no point in arguing then, for the stubbornness of the Dwarves is equal to that of Men and Elves as well."  
  
Men and Elves? What am I, chopped liver?  
  
We ride out.  
  
~  
  
Fuck. Is it just me, or is it cold out here?  
  
We're standing outside the entrance to the Paths of the Dead.  
  
"The way is shut. It was made by those who are dead, and the dead keep it. The way is shut."  
  
I make a face. "So...do we go around, or what?"  
  
Legolas shakes his head. "No, this is the way."  
  
I nod. "OK."  
  
It just had to be another fucking cave, didn't it. I HATE caves.  
  
A sudden breeze blows through. Well, more like a gale force wind. It carries some really fucking creepy noise with it. The horses bolt.  
  
"The cries of the dead," Elrohir whispers.  
  
Aragorn glares at the door, like it went out of its way to offend him. "I do not fear death," he declares, and strides in.  
  
The twins exchange a glance, shrug, and follow.  
  
OK, you know, I don't exactly fear death, but I really don't like caves.  
  
Legolas takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, then walks in.  
  
Gimli and I exchange a glance.  
  
"I'll never hear the end of it," he mutters, and walks in. I follow.  
  
We stumble in the dark for a few minutes. "Who enters my domain?" asks a deep, creepy voice.  
  
"One who will have your allegiance," Aragorn says firmly.  
  
OK, do we really WANT their allegiance? They seriously creep me out.  
  
"The dead do not suffer the living to pass," the head dead guy says.  
  
"You will suffer me," Aragorn snaps back.  
  
Are we sure suffer is really the word we want to be using under these circumstances?  
  
The King of the Dead approaches slowly. "The way is shut. It was made by those who are dead. And the dead keep it. The way is shut. Now you must die."  
  
I make a face. Dream on, Casper.  
  
"I summon you to fulfill your oath!"  
  
"None but the King of Gondor may command me!" The King of the Dead hollers back.  
  
Oooh, boy is he in for a surprise.  
  
The King of the Dead swings his sword around. I feel the others tense around me. Aragorn brings up Anduril for the block.  
  
"That blade was broken," the King gasps.  
  
"It has been remade," Aragorn says firmly. He brings Anduril down and takes a step back. "Fight with us and regain your honor! What say you?" He turns, looks at the ring of Dead surrounding us. "What say you?"  
  
"You waste your time," Gimli says, superbly disdainful. Like our lives AREN'T in the hands of a bunch of glorified Halloween decorations. "They had no honor in life, they have none in death."  
  
"I am Isildur's Heir. Fight for me and I shall hold your oath fulfilled!" He circles the King.  
  
"What say you?"  
  
TBC... 


	28. The Legs! Haven't You Seen Star Wars?

~  
  
Chapter 24  
  
~  
  
Ah, boats. The black pirate ships. The pirates really didn't want to part with them.  
  
I hate sea travel. All that water.  
  
I huddle further back against the mast as we pull up to the shore. I can hear the lead orc talking.  
  
"Late as usual! Pirate scum. There's enough work here that needs doing. Come on, you sea-rats! Get off your ships!"  
  
Now THAT was an interesting look to see on an orc.  
  
Gimli looked them over, then turned to Legolas. "There's enough for both of us. May the best Dwarf win!"  
  
I grin. We charge, the army of the dead moving in behind us. The first couple of waves of orcs are obliterated by the Dead. What isn't, we take care of. It's a relatively simple way of doing battle. Quick and messy.  
  
Aragorn stays close to the King of the Dead. I get swept off to one side, Legolas and Gimli charge straight down the middle. I can hear both of them counting. I glance up from decapitating an orc to see Legolas swing up on the Oliphaunt. As it falls, I hear Gimli yell "That still only counts as one!"  
  
I can't help but laugh.  
  
~  
  
It gets better fairly quickly. I don't think it's going to last much longer.  
  
At least, I hope not. My shoulders are killing me.  
  
An orc charges. I ram the blade up to the hilt in his gut and twist upwards, under the ribs. Easiest way to get to the heart, you know.  
  
I wrench the blade free and open up another one.  
  
A horn sounds from the direction of Minas Tirith. A very familiar horn.  
  
I start to laugh. Here he comes to save the day!  
  
A horde of Gondorians on horseback charge out, almost running me down.  
  
"Hold your blade!" one of them hollers. "That is no orc."  
  
I shake my head. Good eye, jackass.  
  
I duck away. "Have fun, gentlemen!" And I run for where I last saw Legolas and Gimli.  
  
~  
  
I am remarkably unscathed. Only a couple nicks. I don't see Legolas or Gimli. I CAN see Aragorn, but that's only because the Dead are...kinda hard to miss.  
  
"By the White Tree," says a Gondorian behind me. "What are THOSE?"  
  
I swing around to try and block the sword thrust coming in from behind him. "Watch your back, beautiful. I'm not good enough watch yours and mine!"  
  
He gives me a shaky nod. "Can you tell me what they are, Lady?"  
  
I nod shortly. An orc snarls at me, and I bare my teeth back, putting out his eye with one of my knives. "The Oathbreakers."  
  
He stops and stares at me. Luckily, someone shoots the orc who's about to brain him. Remind me to thank Haldir. "But the Oathbreakers would only answer to the King!"  
  
"Really?" I ask, ducking a sword. "What a remarkable thing. Will you keep an eye out, please? Watch what the bloody hell you're doing!"  
  
He straightens immediately and begins to fight harder. That's one thing I've noticed about the Men of Rohan and Gondor. They like order. It gives them a peculiar sense of purpose.  
  
Hey, at least this one didn't drop his sword when he realized I wasn't shaped like the rest of the soldiers on the field. That's really starting to bug me.  
  
~  
  
It's over almost as quickly as it began. My Gondorian companion and I had fought our way through, and suddenly there were no more orcs. It was unusual, to say the least.  
  
I push my hair out of my eyes, grimacing as they come away covered in blood.  
  
"Well, that was interesting," he mutters, leaning on his sword.  
  
I look at him more closely. He's actually not bad looking. He'd be better if he were clean, of course, but that usually improves the appearance. He's handsome even with it.  
  
"Kayli!"  
  
Of course, then we have absolutely gorgeous. I will never laugh at the hopelessly romantic unrequited love interests ever again, I swear to God. I'm so pathetic at this point I have no stones to throw whatsoever.  
  
Gimli pats me on the arm. "Ye injured, lass?"  
  
I shake my head. "Naw. I'm indestructible, haven't you heard?"  
  
Legolas makes a rude noise. I turn to look at him. "No offense, honeychild, but you look like crap."  
  
He makes a face at me. "You're ever so kind."  
  
I turn back to my Gondorian friend. "I never did catch your name."  
  
He grins at me. Legolas gives him a narrow-eyed look, like smiling is a capital offense. "My name is Brioc, noble lady. Can I have the honor of your own?"  
  
"Kayli," I answer, and hold out a hand, just out of habit. He takes it and kisses it. I roll my eyes. "Oooh, a gentleman."  
  
He laughs. "I don't know what else to do! I've never met a woman warrior before."  
  
I shrug. "It works." I turn back to Legolas and Gimli. "Gimli, son of Gloin, Legolas of the Woodland Realm, meet Brioc of Gondor. He and I shared some orcs. Where's Aragorn?"  
  
Gimli waves a hand in the general direction of some creepy green light. "Over there, with the King of the Dead."  
  
"Legolas!"  
  
Ah, Boromir has arrived. He guides his horse up next to us and leaps down. He's grinning like a maniac. "How's it going?"  
  
"Swell," I reply. "How are you?"  
  
He frowns at me. "Are you injured?"  
  
"WHY does everybody keep asking me that? If I'm not blood, no bones are broken, and no limbs are missing, I'll live."  
  
Brioc gives me a wide-eyed look. "Oh, she IS charming. Wherever did you find her?"  
  
Boromir grins at him. "The Elves found her. You know how strange Elves can be."  
  
The soldier gives Legolas a nervous look, but the Elf just rolls his eyes. "Ignore him, Brioc. He thinks he's amusing."  
  
"Where's Aragorn?"  
  
Legolas, Gimli and I all point. "Over there."  
  
Brioc shakes his head. "Captain Boromir, if you will excuse me, I should go and help collect the wounded."  
  
I giggle. "Captain."  
  
Boromir gives me an offended look. "I will have you know, dear sister, that I am the Captain of Gondor's armies."  
  
Brioc laughs. "Forgive us, my Lady! We didn't know any better."  
  
Boromir claps him on the shoulder. "Go, scoundrel. You will make our allies think we don't know what we're doing."  
  
"Don't worry," Legolas says dryly. "No fear of that."  
  
"We already know you don't know what you're doing," Gimli adds.  
  
I shake my head. "I'm going to go with our friend here and see what I can do to help."  
  
He bows. "I would be honored, noble Lady."  
  
I frown at him. "Stop that. Use my name." I turn back to the others. "Stay out of trouble."  
  
"Yes, Mother," Boromir says.  
  
Legolas gives him a LOOK. "Did you perhaps get hit on the head?"  
  
I shake my head and leave.  
  
~  
  
"They seem remarkably at ease with one another," Brioc says a few minutes later.  
  
"Which ones? We're all pretty at ease."  
  
"The Elf and Dwarf. I had heard tales that their peoples do not get along."  
  
I laugh. "Oh, honeychild, you should've seen them when we first started out. They couldn't stand the sight of each other. It was hilarious."  
  
We stop and get orders and supplies from one of the healers and set out further into the field, stopping to kill any orcs who happen to still be alive.  
  
"Even Boromir seems to be at ease, which is odd," he continues. "When we had our occasional Elven visitor, Boromir would avoid them most ardently. Whenever he came near one, his –"  
  
"Shoulder would twitch," I finish, and laugh. "You should have seen him in Rivendell. Absolutely surrounded by Elves, and his shoulder twitching when ever an Elf came within five feet of him."  
  
"Over here! I need help over here!"  
  
Oh, God. It's Pippin. I run.  
  
He's leaning over Merry, smoothing his hair and covering him with his cloak. Pippin looks up at me and sniffles. "He's hurt, Kayli. And Lady Eowyn – she's hurt, too."  
  
I swear. "All right, we need litters or something."  
  
Brioc nods and runs off. I check on Eowyn, which, since I don't have any medical training, amounts to making sure she's still breathing. Then I sit down by Pippin, wrap an arm around him, take Merry's hand, and wait.  
  
TBC...  
  
Girl Tree – Why, thank you. I'm rather proud of that little bit of dialogue.  
  
Red Queen Kai – It's Kay-lee. Thanks!  
  
Unauthorized Cuddler – Alas, if only I had the time. But ten hours shifts don't leave much time for writing.  
  
Twilight-la-fae – Don't worry, Leilanni will be back...and she will be after...duh duh DUH! Thanks!  
  
Princess Danielly – Thanks so much! You rock!  
  
Sylvia Viridian – Hmm, yes, sense jealous I do. Just a little bit. I'm still not sure if it'll work out, though, so don't hold your breath. There IS a certain blond stumbling block in the way. Thanks hugely, you kick incredible amounts of ass.  
  
Snowfire the Kitsune – Don't worry, Leilanni'll be around. I don't think Arwen has much to worry about, 'cause Evil L wasn't after Aragorn. Kayli might be in trouble, though, along with our favoritest Elf. Thanks for the mischief, it'll come in handy!  
  
Jack Sparrow's Only Love – Thanks!  
  
Arsine selene – Thanks again!  
  
The Whisperer – Yes, he bopped. BOPPED! It was so disturbing. You really need to see the movies. Don't go in expecting them to be exactly like the books, because that ruins them. Ah, but Kayli isn't an Elf. Like I keep saying, I don't know what's gonna happen there. And the Gimli accent is the result of too much Forgotten Realms. Thank you so much!  
  
Becca – I knew you'd missed the twins! And yes. Definitely yes. Thanks!  
  
Ainu lote – uh...Thanks? Chocolate...any kind of chocolate...  
  
Anime no Megami – At least he realizes! Thanks again!  
  
xoSilverAndCold – You're supposed to like Elladan, he's the loveable prankster! Thanks so much!  
  
LegosGrl – Don't worry, she'll be around. Thanks!  
  
GreyLadyBast – *falls down and worships* Forgive me, but we all have flaws. One not-so-teeny mischaracterization is mine. The way I understood the sheildmaidens of Rohan is that they did not travel with the armies but were a sort of last-ditch home defense. Excuses, excuses. I had to try, and I'll just quit while I'm relatively ahead. And the term Bitchzilla was originally coined by my crewmate Benji in regards to one of our not-so- nifty shift managers. As for Leilanni...well, like I said, she'll be around, and she has a few things to say to both Kayli and our favorite Elf. Other than that, my lips are sealed. Thank you so much!  
  
Fvor – Yeah, no shit she's a Mary Sue, genius. I just love how when you jackasses feel the need to flame, you never leave an email address or a profile where people can get a hold of you. One flaming asshole out of a hundred and forty odd reviews really doesn't make me question my ability.  
  
ADC – Oh, my God, he does. How strange. Thanks!  
  
Catherine Maria – Yes! By the Two Towers extended edition! Eomer rides by, says 'stay away from the trees!' and then the trees who marched from Fangorn ripped apart the remaining orcs. As for Eowyn, don't worry about her. I'm not messing with canon 'ships, so she'll end up with Faramir. As for Legolas and Kayli...well, you'll see.  
  
Elrohir lover – Leilanni'll be here, don't worry. Thanks! 


	29. Welcome To The House Of The Stewards

OK, I understand the concept of moral support, I really do. But I can only stand so much of being completely and utterly USELESS. I'm certainly not accomplishing anything, and I would even go so far as to say that Merry and Eowyn don't even know I'm here.  
  
Of course, neither does Boromir. He's fixated entirely on hs brother. I think part of it might actually be guilt, 'cause Faramir followed him where he wouldn't follow their father.  
  
Of course, see, that's what happens when your father's a raging LUNATIC.  
  
"My grandmother often told me that the hands of the King were the hands of a Healer, because of their Elvish blood. 'Tis truly a pity, then, that the line of Kings was broken so long ago."  
  
God, I wish they would stop babbling.  
  
...  
  
Wait, wait. Hold the phone.   
  
I spin around and grab the woman's arm. She stares at me with these huge eyes, like she's afraid I'm going to jump up and bite her. Honestly, in her defense, I'm pretty sure I don't look that swell. There's still orc blood in my hair, and I'm pretty sure this is the same woman who's head I nearly removed when she commented that I was a bit heavily armed for the Halls of Healing.  
  
OK, so maybe four daggers and a sword is a little much, but the paranoia has seriously set in.  
  
"What did you say?" I demand.   
  
She tries to pull her arm away. "That the line of Kings is broken, and--"  
  
"No," I say harshly. "Before that."  
  
"'THe hands of the King are the hands of a Healer," she repeats, gaping at me like I've suddenly sprouted a second head.  
  
Of course, that might be because of the hysterical laughter.  
  
Boromir is staring at me, looking irritated, like this isn't the time for laughter. And it isnt't, but it's been far too long since I laughed. It feels damn good, let me tell you.  
  
I grin at him quickly. "I'll be back."  
  
And then I'm out the door.  
  
I run full tilt into Brioc at the bottom of the stairs. In a sincere attempt NOT to knock him down and kill him, I back up. And, naturally, being the graceful creature I am, I fall and seriously attempt to crack my head open.  
  
Ouch.  
  
But, fortunately, Legolas is here to help me up. Of course, he couldn't have been really helpful, and, like, caught me before I concussed myself on the nice hard MARBLE FLOOR.  
  
My favorite Elven studmuffin kneels down next to me and starts feeling through my hair for stuff like bumps and skull fractures. I push his hands away and try to sit up. He frowns at me. "I need to make sure that you are not too badly hurt," he snaps.  
  
"Then you should've caught me. Ow."  
  
"Not even an Elf is that fast," he says drily. "I was just outside the door when you fell." He leans forward and continues to check my head.  
  
Oh, well, that's nice. Why isn't he with Aragorn? Where is Aragorn?  
  
"Outside the walls, with the sons of Elrond," Legolas says absently.  
  
I jump and swear when his fingers touch the bump on the back of my head."Ouch, dammit." I push his hands away and manage to stagger to my feet. Should I be worried that the room is spinning? Or that I feel like I'm falling?  
  
Well, definitely about the last thing, since the only thing currently keeping me upright is the fact that Legolas cuaght me. One out of two isn't bad, right?  
  
Brioc takes a step forward, as if to take my other arm, but Legoals gives him a nasty look and he smiles uncomfortably. I turn and look at Legolas. "What is UP with you?"  
  
The Elf frowns at me for a moment, then shakes his head, like he doesn't even want to know what the hell I'm talking about. Which is a serious possibility. "Why do you seek Aragorn?"  
  
Huh? Oh. Oh! That! I turn back to Brioc, ignoring the fact that he keeps shooting Legolas worried glances. "Have you ever heard that the Hands of a King are the hands of a Healer?"  
  
Brioc frowns, finally looking at me. Well, huzzah, I finally got his attention. "Yes, but milady, that's just a legend."  
  
Legolas is staring at me, eyes narrowed, like he knows what I'm thinking. And, hey, what the hell, maybe he does. "Nay," he says slowly, "it is not merely a legend. The Kings of Gondor have long been Healers, since the time of Elros."  
  
"Elrond's twin brother," I mutter. Y'know, that actually makes a lot of sense, considering that Elrond is the big Healer guy, right?  
  
Legolas nods in agreement, still watching me. "Do you think he can do it?"  
  
I nod, and laugh suddenly, throwing my arms around his. "They're gonna be okay!"  
  
I push away, suddenly not dizzy anymore. "Where is his Reluctant Highness?"  
  
Brioc clears his throat nervously. "Well, we could escort you, my Lady..."  
  
Oh, God, what's wrong now? "But..."   
  
"Lord Denethor's gone quite mad, and we have to go through that room to get to the gates," Brioc explains. "He's ranting about how his sons are dead and his line is ending."  
  
Ooookay. Last time I looked, Boromir wasn't even injured. And I don't think Aragorn's in the habit of having potential rivals murdered. He just doesn't seem like the type.  
  
I look at Legolas and he shrugs. "I would rather not go back in there. Lord Denethor is not particularly fond of Elves."  
  
Brioc makes a rude noise."Lord Denethor's not particularly fond of anyone."  
  
I shake my head and make for the door. "We don't have time for this. Faramir, EOwyn, and Merry don't have time for this."  
  
"Stop her!" Brioc hisses.  
  
"Me?" Legolas answers. "Surely you jest."  
  
In retrospect, maybe this wasn't the brightest idea. After all, the dude is insane.  
  
Gandalf is talking fast, Pippin is yelling that Faramir isn't dead yet. Denethor is ranting that he won't be usurped by some ragged Ranger of the North.   
  
I've been in here thirty seconds and I'm already tired of it. "Gandalf! Hit him with your stick!"  
  
"It's a staff!" his Whiteyness yells back.  
  
"Staff, stick, whatever! Thwack him with it!"  
  
"I really don't think --" Brioc starts, but then Denethor runs by, shreiking that everyone abandon their posts and flee for their lives. "On second thought, maybe he should hit him."  
  
"The harder, the better," Legolas agrees.  
  
"Why is he doing this NOW? The battles over!" Pippin cries, looking exasperated. I shake my head and go for the far door. "Where did you say Aragorn was again?"  
  
TBC..  
  
FINALLY!  
  
Sorry 'bout this, y'all. LIfe has sucked serious ass. I just moved, I'm working two jobs, and...yeah. My car's broken down TWICE. It's uncool, but I've finally got two hours a day set aside for writing. It's goin' good, no?  
  
Mew -- It's here, it's here. Very sorry, and thank you for your kind words.  
  
GreyLadyBast -- Once more, my sincerest apologies. Life sucks. Thank you for your patience.  
  
LegosGrl -- Thank you so much for your understanding, and you hugely rock. I only have a couple of hours a WEEK to write, so, thanks. Here's your chapter!  
  
Kat Hawkins -- Here it is! I'm sorry about the wait! Thanks!  
  
immortalwizardpirateelf-fan -- Once more, thanks for the patience. It's been kinda tough. Yeah, I like her to. Thanks!  
  
Red Queen Kai -- Really? Kailee? My friend Dawna, her daughter's name is Kailee. I LOVE that name, LOVE it. Thanks!  
  
aBarHeiress -- Yes, jthat brings the total up to five votes for Elladan and Elrohir. Don't worry, they're in the next chap. Thanks! I'm glad you liked it! (And thanks to your friend, too.)  
  
insanityismyfriend -- Here it is! Thanks again!  
  
Nienna Laronde -- I'm glad it makes you laugh, and I'll try! Thank you so much.  
  
The Whisperer -- In all honesty, no, Brioc is not a Gondorian name. At least, I don't think so. It's actually Celtic in origin.shrugs But I liked it, so here it is. And the legs thing...Remember the Walkers? On Hoth? Yeah, that was my friend Tiff, screaming at Eowyn on the TV as I'm trying to write, yelling "Go for the legs! Use the Force, dammit!" As for Elladan and Elrohir, it was dark, and they hadn't seen her in about eight months, remember. That and their sister is dying. So we'll cut them a little slack, no? Maybe they just didn't wanna be rude. I don't know. But thank you so much for the useful critiques! I love it! Thanks you so much!  
  
Mummy! -- They ARE, aren't they? Heh. Thank you. PS -- As for Fvor, well, she was rude, and that's my hugest pet peeve in like the whole wide world. Honestly, I highly doubt she's like that in real life, people usually aren't. And she's your friend, so the defense their is awesome. Thanks!  
  
chelsea -- Yes, yes I will. Sorry about the wait! Thanks! PS what does j'adore ce mean?  
  
Dew-Shan of Egypt -- grovels I'm so sorry! Please don't take my head! I like it where it is! Sorry about the wait. RL, you know. I will work as fast as I can, though, I promise! Thank you!  
  
LIsa (aka Stalker Chick) -- Thank you so, so much. Fortunately for me, i know longer have school to worry about. Happy dance! Thanks again!  
  
Bloody Vixen -- I know, I know. Sorry. But that's just how she wants to talk. And don't worry, I hope there's more! Thanks!  
  
babies-ate-my-dingoe -- Thanks!  
  
Iariel -- Thank you, so much. Actually, I'm pretty sure it's Legolas at this point. I don't know if they'll end up together, but I DO know she's in love with you. And Iariel is fine, since 'Brioc' isn't technically Gondorian either.   
  
Girl Tree -- Like the shoulder twitch, do we? And, ladies and gentlemen, I had to go get the Fellowship members out of her room before I could write anymore! Thanks you! And NOTHING is better than bubble wrap.  
  
Sylvia Virdian -- God, don't we all. The boat was awesome, wasn't it? That was one ugly orc. And yes, you are babbling, but it's forgiveable. Thanks again!  
  
Iremray -- Thank you! You are the first person to think it was tasteful and not accuse me of being a profanity junkie. As for the story, go for it. We could use some decent flippin' fics out there. Thanks!  
  
Twilight -- Here it is! I hope it was worth the wait! Thanks!  
  
Yuhi -- I don't know how close it is to being finished. Hard to tell. Thanks!  
  
Rede -- Huh?  
  
Catherine Maria -- Captain General. I'll remember that. And yes, Boromir-fangirl, I rolled my eyes. Boromir needs a wife, I think. Send me a Gondorian name, girl.  
  
poolbum -- Thank you. As for the Star Wars, see above response to The Whisperer. You're not the first person to express the fact that you don't understand, but that's okay. It's one thing I'm used to.  
  
Crecy -- Thank you!  
  
Arsinoe Selene --...Thank you. I think.  
  
True Maven -- Don't worry about Aragorn/Arwen, it'll get here. So will Faramir/Eowyn. As for Legolas/Kayli. We'll see. And don't ruin the surprise! Thanks!  
  
prettyfoot -- Thanks!  
  
ainu lote -- Who DOESN'T eat chocolate? Thank you!  
  
Mordomin -- Thank you!  
  
ADC -- Patience, grasshopper. You'll see! Thanks! 


	30. Interlude Aragorn

Interlude -- Aragorn  
  
There are moments when I wonder why I do this. When I wonder why I ever agreed to lead a horse, let alone an army.  
  
But then I think of Arwen. Of her beautiful smile, of her wise eyes, of her sweet laugh, and I remember that I do this for her. So that we can be wed, and spend our lives together, although I find myself wishing that she had sailed with her kin, or that I could live out my life as a ranger of the North, with no concerns of a kingly nature. But, as Elrond once told me, such is not my destiny.  
  
And, well, it rather...what does Kayli say?...bites.  
  
"Aragorn!"  
  
Oh, bleeding hell, what now? Does it never end?  
  
Kayli comes skidding to a hald in front of me, hair wild, an enormous smile on her face. Legolas is not far behind her, and I have noticed that he tends to stay close to her. But I'll pretend I don't see the look in his eyes.   
  
"You can help them," Kayli blurts suddenly, and the words come tumbling out, right after one another, as they have a tendency to do....whenever she opens her mouth. "You can save them, and heal them! Merry and Eowyn and Faramir! 'Cause I was listening to one of the old women in the Halls of Healing, and you know how they are, god, they never shut up --"  
  
Legolas coughs lightly, looking amused.  
  
"--I didn't ask you, Goldilocks," she adds without missing a beat. "Anyway, the Healer chick, she said something about how the Hands of a King are the hands of a Healer, and that's how the rightful King is known, and this is a good thing, because then not only will you be healing people, you'll be proving that you have a right to the throne. And before you start going on and on and whining about how it completely sucks and asking why it has to be you, just remember that you're the only King we brought on this trip."  
  
There's a moment of silence, and I can feel every eye on me. Even though they're behind me and I cannot see their faces, I know Elladan and Elrohir are trying not to laugh. Some brothers they are. GImli clears his throat.  
  
"I do not whine, and I am not the only King," I say defensively.  
  
"Don't you dare drag me into this," Eomer says firmly, holding up his hands and taking a step away.  
  
Kayli sighs and rolled her eyes. "My apologies, your Reluctant Highness. We didn't know Kings would be in such demand. Are you coming or not?"  
  
Eomer reaches over and clasps my arm. "Aragorn...if you can heal my sister...she is all I have left."  
  
For a moment, I think of Arwen, of what she would want me to do, and I think of Eowyn, and I remember Theoden. I straighten, and meet Eomer's eyes. "Yes. The Halls of Healing."  
  
TBC... 


	31. A Float In The SelfPity Parade

Damn, I'm good.  
  
Of course, I actually had nothing to do with it except the fact that I have a tendency to eavesdrop that my mother never managed to guilt out of me. All the credit goes to Eomer. Man, he is GOOD at this guilt thing. I pity his children.  
  
Once we're outside the Halls of Healing, Legolas gently grasps my arm and pulls me off to the side. "You need to rest," he says quietly, "or you'll be of no good to anyone."  
  
I make a rude noise. "You're one to lecture, Goldilocks. When was the last time you slept?"  
  
He frowns at me, and I resolutely ignored all the somersaults my stomach is doing at being this close to him. "I am an Elf. I don't require sleep as you do."  
  
I roll my eyes and take a step away. Being reminded of the fact that he's going to outlive me by millenia and we're not even the same species is roughly the equivalent of a kick in the stomach. I dislike it. Muchly. But he gives me this look, this gentle, concerned look, and I give. Like a cheap card table. "Yes, mother, I'll go to bed. Wake me up when something happens, all right?" I fold my arms and glare at him, like a sulky eight-year-old who was denied the before-dinner cookie.  
  
He sighs and passes a hand over his eyes, looking tired. "We have much to do before this is over, Kayli, and we'll need everyone."  
  
I narrow my eyes. "Even me," I mutter.  
  
Oh, god, look at all the fucking self-pity. I really need to get over myself. I shake my head and run both hands through my hair. "I'm sorry, I just..."  
  
"You're afraid," he says softly.  
  
I nod my head, wrapping my arms tightly around myself. "I'm afraid, I'm exhausted, and..." I all comes welling up at once, and I have to look away from those gently concerned eyes or I'll burst into tears and sobbingly confess everything that I don't want him to know. Like the fact that I'm a fraud, or the fact that I'm madly in love with him.   
  
He reaches out, gently turns my face back towards his. "Kayli? What troubles you?"  
  
I stare at him for a moment, long and hard, and realize I apparently haven't been as obvious as I thought. "You really don't know, do you?" I pull away, shaking my head. "When all this is over, if we both live, ask me again, then I'll tell you, all right?"  
  
Legolas just stares at me for a moment, like he's looking into my soul.   
  
See, I have a theory. Once Elves reach a certain age, like the Elvish equivalent of eighteen, or maybe twenty-one, one of their parents takes them aside and teaches them the LOOKs. Those LOOKs that manage to be aloof and arrogant while being deep and insightful and are specifically designed to make us poor mere mortal feels like window glass. The cheap kind. Plexiglas.   
  
He nods once and steps away from me, suddenly the cool, aloof Elven warrior. "Agreed."  
  
I nod and walk away.  
  
Honestly, when I walked away from the Halls of Healing and shanghaied a maid to show me to my rooms, I thought I was too high-strung to sleep.  
  
Heh. Shows what I know.  
  
Next thing I know, Boromir is throwing my blankets on the floor and calling loudly for me to wake up, and I'm calling him a wide variety of obscene and anatomically insulting names. Which he's LAUGHING at.  
  
Ah. A clue Sherlock. D'ya think Faramir's all better?  
  
I try and find the edge of my bed and promtly roll off it. I land in a graceless, slightly deformed, barely concious and extremely painful heap on the floor. "Ouch."  
  
Boromir peels me off the floor and sits me on the edge of my now-naked bed. "We," he says proudly, looking smug, "have a plan."  
  
I yawn. "Oh, good," I say, and tip over, searching for a pillow. My soon-to-be-disowned adopted brother grabs me by the arm and hauls me back into a sitting position, ignoring my whine of protest.  
  
Boromir rather pointedly sniffs the air. "You smell," he informs me, as if I didn't already know.  
  
I yawn again. "Tell me that again after I've had about a day and a half of sleep."  
  
"You've already had a day and a half of sleep. If you sleep any longer, you'll miss the battle."  
  
"And this is a bad thing HOW?"  
  
Boromir laughs at me, grabs my arm again, and pulls me up. "Your bath is ready, my Lady. Go and take advantage of it. I'll have a servant bring you fresh clothing, and then you can join us in our planning."  
  
I frowns at him. "I thought you already had a plan?"  
  
"Well...I might have exagerated a bit," he admits. "But fear not, for we have the BASICS of a plan, and all we have to do is fine-tune it."  
  
Somehow, I am not reassured.  
  
"Oh, no. What the HELL is THAT?"  
  
My new maid, an easily frightened, doe-eyed girl younger than me, is currently staring at me with eyes that take up most of her face and a confused look that seems to be her usual expression. "It's...your gown, milady."  
  
Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me. "I don't wear...gowns," I try and explain for about the tenth time.  
  
She shrugs. "It's all I have, milady," she whispers, staring at the hem of her dress.   
  
I sigh and roll my eyes. "It's all right, it's not your fault," I mutter. If I yell at her again she might cry, and I don't need THAT on my conciense, thank you. "JUst help me get into the damn thing."  
  
She smiles shyly and steps forward, silently listening to me bitch about how I can't wear weapons with the dress. I really shouldn't complain, it's actually a lovely gown, a pale lavender color that will go well with my black hair and blue eyes. She has silver pins that go in my hair, holding it back off my face but leaving the rest loose down my back.   
  
When I look in the mirror, I barely recognize myself. I'm clean, for starters, no blood on my face or in my hair. I'm unarmed, not a knife or sword in sight. My face is bare, no dirt or orc blood, and my hair is braided and twisted up, and looks very elegant, really. And I look like I have a female body, not hidden by leathers and mail. Damn, but I look GOOD.  
  
"You're very pretty," the girl whispers, looking at my shyly.  
  
I smile at her. "Thanks, but it was all you, really. What did you say your name was, again?"  
  
"Iariel, milady. Lord Boromir's waiting for you."  
  
I nod, smooth my skirt, walk out, and watch Boromir's jaw hit the floor. Behind me, Iariel giggles.  
  
"By the White Tree, you look like a lady," Boromir laughs.  
  
I make a face at him. "You did this, didn't you, you bastard?"  
  
He grins, not even trying to deny it. "I wanted to see if you would clean up well enough to be a Lady of Gondor, dear sister. Besides, it'll be quite amusing to see the look on the Elf's face."  
  
I roll my eyes. MEN.  
  
TBC...  
  
PS -- There you go, Iariel. You're not noble, but you'll get yours, don't worry.  
  
To Catherine Maria -- I'm still for that Gondorrian name. Last call for Boromir, honey. 


	32. Kamikaze!

You know, not to just completely interrupt my own story, but I've realized something.

I'm changing. Changed. Different than I was. I realize a quest like this would change anyone, but...Even my mind has changed, my memories. I'm not the person who put so much value on her knowledge of the books and movies, viewed the people around her as characters and herself as seperate from their fates, because, well, it shouldn't matter. After all, she was real, and they weren't. End of story.

Except it wasn't. I know these people now, know them and love them, and would call them friends if they would have me. But at the end of this quest...what place is there for me? I'm no warrior, nor leader, nor brainless noblewoman content to be a trophy wife.

And it's doubtful I'll remain in Middle-Earth once this quest is completed. Or so I think, or feel, perhaps.

So, the real question...What place is there for me in my old world, this new girl, hardened by questing and scarred by battle? What place is there for me in a world where you don't fight your enemies hand to hand but hundreds of yards apart? In a world of McDonald's and pizza delivery?

What the hell am I supposed to do with myself then?

111

I sigh hugely, once more wallowing in my own self-pity, and Boromir turns to me, gray eyes concerned, falling easily into the over-protective big brother mode he probably perfected ages ago. He must have driven Faramir insane.

"What's wrong?"

I shake my head. "I'm thinking. This quest is almost over, right?"

Boromir nods thoughtfully. "The Valar willing, we shall emerge victorious."

I shake my head. "Ugh, morbid thoughts. Forget it. So...what's the plan?"

"By Iluvatar, it cannot be!" called a mocking voice behind me. "Do mine eyes deceive, or has the lovely warrior-princess clad herself as befits her station?"

"Have you been reading Rohirric romances again, 'Dan?"

I shake my head, turning to face the twins, hands on hips. They both press their hands over their hearts and bow.

I look at Boromir. "I think they're mocking me."

Elladan comes up and drapes an arm across my shoulders. "What will Legolas say?"

"What will I say about what?"

We all turned. Legolas was standing in the door, and excuse me while I gape. And, no, not just beause he's gorgeous, which he is. He's dressed as a prince, all in white, his long hair braided back and a mithril circlet on h is brow. Elladan and Elrohir both bow, and so does Boromir a split second later. It takes me a second to remember I'm supposed to curtsey.

Elladan bounds up next to him and pinches his cheek. "Well, aren't you cute!"

Legolas gives him such a dark look that even Elladan back off a bit. But he's still grinning. He bows again, mockingly Legolas rolls his eyes. He glances over at us, looks away, and yes, here comes the look of complete disbelief. Yep, there it is. And THAT doesn't make me self-concious. Nope, not at all.

I fold my arms over my chest and glare, instantly reverting to the bitch inside. "What?"

He laughs. "I thought perhaps you were someone else!"

I shake my head. "I am getting out of this dress."

"Can I watch?" Elladan asks immediately. Then Elrohir rams his elbow into his brother's stomach. Legolas grabs my arm as I head for the stairs. "Nay, Kayli, you look lovely."

"We figured there was a woman in there somewhere," Elrohir says.

OK, that's it. "I am SO going to change."

"Into what?" Elladan asked.

I turn around and start to walk -- OK, OK, storm -- away, but Legolas grabs my arm and turns me back around, tucking my hand into his. "Ignore them, you look beautiful."

"Well, he would think so," Boromir says easily.

"Well, he hasn't seen a woman in months."

Elladan SO has a death wish. I tug my hand out of Legolas' and turn to head back for my room. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I'll meet you in the hall."

I walk away, and I can hear them bickering behind me. I'd tell you what they're saying, but it's in Elvish.

I've never felt more at home in my life.

111

Everybody's crowded in the throne room when I get back. Aragorn's pacing, Legolas is standing by one of the windows, just staring out. Gimli's sprawled on the stiars with Elladan and Elrohir. They're just goofing off, acting dumb. Which, in the case of Elladan, comes quite NATURALLY. He must enjoy pain. I am going to hurt him.

The Hobbits are around the table with the food, no real surprise there. Haldir is picking at something suspiciously not food-like. Has Eowyn been cooking? No, that was cruel. Not that I care. Boromir is standing nearby, hovering over a younger man with brown hair and gray eyes just like his. Must be Faramir. Gee, ya think? And there's Eomer, giving Eowyn the same treatment, and Gandalf's pacing.

Is it just me, or are Faramir and Eowyn sitting kinda close?

Must be me. Hee.

Elladan catches sight of me, and bounces to his feet. Yes, bounces. Like he's on a spring. "There you are!"

Elrohir laughs. "Now I recognize her!"

Elladan drapes an arm over my shoulders and guides me over to sit with his brother and Gimli. "Your gown was lovely, mellon, but this is more familiar." He kisses my cheek, then smirks across the room.

What is up with these people? Has everybody lost their bloody mind?

I shrug off Elladan's arm and head over to Boromir. He smiles at me and gives me a quick hug. "There you are, little sister. Kayli, this is my brother. Faramir, I would like you to meet your new sister, Kayli."

Faramir glances at me, smiles slightly, drops me a little wink, and then assumes an expression of flawless innocence.

Oh, God, another one. Everybody's a comedian.

I grab a glass from the table as Faramir turns that look to his brother. "And you didn't invite me to the wedding?"

I choke on my first swallow. Ugh, I hate wine. Haldir slaps my on the back a couple of times to tone down the coughing. Eowyn smacks Faramir on the arm. "Will you behave?"

He just grins at her. Boromir glares at me. "You choked?"

"You. Marriage. Uck." And with that statement, thousands of Boromir fans across the world are preparing to kill me. Slowly. In great pain. How would you like it if someone suggested you marry your brother.

Yeah, uck. That's what I thought.

"OK, so what's the plan?" I ask.

"Great danger, certain death," Gimli says. "The usual."

"Ah."

"Well, there's a bit more to it than that," Faramir says.

"In the morning, we ride on the Black Gate," Aragorn explains.

"Or not," Faramir mutters.

Oh, no. HELL no. He has got to be kidding. "That's the plan?" I demand incredulously. "Suicide is the plan?"

Aragorn frowns at me. Y'know, there are moments when I think I've almost snuck through Aragorn's defenses and he can almost stand me. And then there are the moments when I say something to disparage his great plans and he gets all crabby. This is one of those moments.

"We seek not to defeat Mordor. We want only to give Frodo time to destroy the Ring."

I hold up my hands defensively. "Aragorn, relax. I didn't say it was a bad plan. Mainly because it's the only plan we have."

"We cannot defeat Mordor through strength of arms," Eomer points out.

"But that's not the plan," Pippin says. He fixes his huge blue eyes on Eomer. I can almost see him starting to cave, and Pip hasn't even really SAID anything yet.

Beware Hobbit huggability. BEWARE.

"Right," Merry breaks in. "All we're really doing is buying time for Frodo and Sam."

"And that's why it's a good plan," I add.

Legolas pulls the circlet off his head and starts turning it through his hands. "A diversion is their only hope of success."

Yes. Thank you, Mr. States-The-Obvious. Is it just me, or does Legolas seem a bit distracted lately?

Maybe that actually is just me, but I might check in later. Boromir would probably say I worry too much, which I think is a bit ironic, coming from him.

"Nearly certain death. Small chance of success. What are we waitin' for?" Gimli asks.

Yay! ANOTHER field trip!

TBC...


	33. Insane Relatives And Other Issues

It's a few hours before dawn. Boromir's already up and around. I can hear him banging around outside.

Wanna hear something funky? Somehow Boromir wrangled it that my rooms are in the family apartments. He's taking this protective-big-brother thing a little too seriously. According to Faramir he always has. It could get irritating in a hurry.

Outside, I hear something slam into the wall, and then Faramir yelling for quiet. Boromir starts to swear.

OK. Dude. Enough's enough.

I roll to my feet and start strapping on my blades. There's more banging from outside. What the HELL is he doing?

111

Insanity's hereditary, right? It'd explain alot.

My darling brother is in the sitting room, ramming his shoulder into the wall. He's already wearing his armor, which explains the banging. He steps away from the wall, shrugs his shoulders, and takes another running start at the wall.

I wince at the noise it produces. Faramir chucks something breakable at his bedroom door, which shatters, then calls his brother a series of really obscene names.

I don't get it. I mean, I followed the names, which were quite creative, and I understand Faramir throwing stuff, 'cause it's loud and it's really, really early. What I don't get is why Boromir is ramming himself into the wall. Unless he's followed in his father's footsteps down the path of insanity.

"All right, call me stupid, but what the HELL are you doing?"

Boromir glances at me. "Oh. Good morning, little sister." He rolls his shoulders under the armor, nods, then switches positions so his other shoulder is facing the wall. I grab his arm before he can charge.

"Boromir. What. Are. You. Doing?"

He blinks at me. "I'm straightening my armor."

OK, now I'm really confused. "Wouldn't it be easier to take it to a black smith?" Faramir yells something about Boromir's mental capabilities. "And less noisy?"

My dear, challenged brother shrugs. "I never think about it until the last minute. A smith will never have it ready in time." He smiles at me, and I swear there's an edge of viciousness I thought I'd never see in Boromir. He pats my hand. "I'll be done in time, Kayli, fear not."

I can almost hear Faramir cursing the day he was born. I'm just hoping the hall's empty so I can get a couple more hours of sleep.

111

The citadel is dark and silent, everyone else, lucky bastards, still tucked snug and warm in their beds without insane relatives beating themselves on the architecture. I long ago realized I wouldn't trade him for anything in the world.

I wander into the hall, and, naturally, it's not empty. Seated at the table is the one person I was really, really hoping to avoid.

Yep, got it in one. Legolas.

He's bent over an arrow, paying insanely intense attention to the fletching process, which I still don't understand. A neat pile of completed arrows is on the table infront of him. His hair is loose over his shoulders, and he seems completely oblivious to his sorroundings.

Right. I know better.

"Good morning," he says quietly, not looking up. "You're awake early."

I nod, yawn, and flop down in the chair next to him. I can almsot hear my Gramma's voice lecturing on posture. "Boromir's beating himself against the walls."

Now he looks up, eyebrows raised. "Pray tell why?"

I yawn again. "Straightening his armor."

He frowns. I can almost see him turning that statement over in his mind and coming to the inevitable conclusion. "Wouldn't it be simpler to take it to the smithy? And quieter."

"He never thinks of it in time. Or so he says. I think he does it to annoy Faramir."

He smiles slightly. "Brothers, irritating? Never."

I look at him curiously. I really don't know anything about his family, except that his father's the King of Mirkwood. And his mother's dead. Elladan and Elrohir are fonts of information on many things, but not him. Of course, I've never asked. Seemed to much like digging for information. "Speaking of up early..."

"The Dwarf is awake as well, and complaining. He seems to think we're undertaking a suicide mission."

I make a face. "Gee, I wonder why."

He laughs lightly and returns his attention to his arrows. He carefully completes attaching the feathers, then picks up a small knife and begins carving runes along the arrow-shaft. I lay my head down on my arms and watch his hands as they carve. My eyes slip closed, and before I know it, I'm dreaming.

111

My dreams find me wandering the halls of the citadel. I'm wearing a red and black gown, the sleeves caught around my arms with embroidery and the skirt catching around my legs. It's dark, the torches on the walls burnt out. There's dust on the floor, and cobwebs in the corners.

I lift my skirts slightly, to keep it from tripping me. My feet are bare, and I wiggle my toes against the floor. The stones are cold.

This isn't right. Why is it so dark? It's never this dark in the middle of the night. At least some of the torches are lit, and there would never be cobwebs. After all, this is the home of the King. Or it will be, again soon.

I shrug and walk slowly forward. Perhaps my subconciousness has a reason for bringing me here. I hope so, anyway. This is mighty depressing. Now, which way to the hall...?

I walk slowly forward. There are lights burning in the hall. I peak around the door, then just as quickly jerk back. My hands drop to my blade, only to discover... Yep, you guessed it. Not a bloody weapon in sight. Dammit. Sometimes, brain, I really hate you.

The room is filled with orcs. And prisoners. My overactive imagination needs to take a flying leap.

See, when your little Jiminy Cricket mental friend sees that your having reservations about something that you KNOW needs to be done, it will send you a nightmare of the consequences of your non-actions. Or, at least, mine does, courtesy of my overactive imagination.

I've never understood why my dreams never let me have a fucking knife.

There's a scream from inside the room, a decidedly Hobbit-y scream, and then Boromir calling Pippin's name.

111

Legolas lightly touches my shoulder, and I jerk awake, my hand bringing up a blade. He catches my wrist and frowns at me. "Are you all right?"

I nod, trying to catch my breath. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine...just...bad dream. Very, very bad dream."

He nods and sits back down, returning his attention to his arrows. "You cried out."

I nod again and blow out a breath. "It was a doozy."

He looks up at me, smiling slightly. "Did you know that I only understand about half of what you say?"

And some things never change. "Same as back home, honey."

Gimli comes stomping in the room a second later, holding two axes. There's a small one in his belt and another on his back. The Dwarf does not like to be caught unprepared. "There ya are," he growls at Legolas. "Aren't you done with those blasted arrows yet?"

"Patience, Master Dwarf," Legolas says calmly, reaching for the little knife again.

"Ye're taking forever." Gimli plops himself down in the chair next to me. "Mornin', lass."

"Morning."

"Amazing, this from a Dwarf who spent four hours sharpening his axe?"

"An axe is more useful than that poncy bow of yours."

And they're off! Yes, they're always like this. It's like having a front row seat to an episode of Jerry Springer. With out the transexuals and the hookers.

I tune them out and lay my head down on my arms, trying to go back to sleep. A few seconds later, the door slams open and Faramir comes stomping in, muttering under his breath. Something about 'idiocy' and 'hope he's eaten by a Warg.' He slams his sword down on the table and drops into his chair. After a second, he notices Legolas and Gimli are both staring. He smiles sheepishly. "Sorry, my Lords. It's just...Boromir's..."

"Straightening his armor," I mutter, and bury my head back in my arms.

Faramir makes a rude noise. "My horse's ass. He does it to be irritating." A pause. "Kayli, what are you doing?"

"Napping."

"Ah."

The door slams open again, and I can hear Merry and Pippin arguing, loudly, about -- you guessed it -- breakfast. "I still think we should've gotten that roast. It's gonna be a long road, and we'll need our strength."

"Oh, I don't know, Pip. We have ham, and turkey, bread, butter, plenty of fruit...Maybe we can get the roast for second breakfast."

I lift my head and squint at the Hobbits. Both of them are carrying large trays overflowing with a wide variety of food. Ah, kitchen raid. Faramir's looking at them with wide eyes, probably wondering if all that food can fit into two such small beings. The answer is yes. All that and more in a couple hours. It is impossible for a Hobbit to ever be completely full.

Merry looks at us gathered there and grins. "Good morning, my Lords, my Lady. We brought first breakfast.

Across from me, Faramir mouths the words 'first breakfast' with a disbelieving look.

Legolas leans over and whispers. "If you're hungry, get what you can. It disappears faster than it appears."

Faramir slowly shakes his head. "There are times I wonder if I shall ever adjust to my brother's companions. And then there are the moments when I know I won't."

Gimli snorts and pulls out his pipe. "Lad's learning."

TBC...


	34. Behold, the Black Gate!

Why, oh, why, did I ever agree to do this? Did I maybe get smacked on the head during my journey to Middle-Earth? That would explain the headache I had when I woke up.

Remember what I said about who I used to be and who I am now? Let me expound.

So here's this girl, right? Just one simple, modern American girl with a crappy job and no money-handling skills, living from paycheck to paycheck and praying for salvation.

Boom! One morning, she wakes up in Middle-Earth, where dwells the object of many of her get-me-the-hell out of here fantasies, and is given the opportunity to involve herself in a great quest to save the world. Just what any overly-hormonal, adventure seeking girl would want.

So, yeah. That's me, basically. Well, I didn't really WANT to be here, per se, but it sure as hell beats another shift making cheeseburgers.

But that was then. That girl, I'm not her anymore. I realized I said that before, but I do tend to repeat myself, and besides, it gets truer ever day. I'm really NOT that girl anymore. The one who only learned how to ride a horse because she lost a bet, and who was so proud when her first A high school assignment was a book report.

I went through the first part of this journey because I had read the books, and seen the moves, I knew what was coming. I clung to that pseudo-knowledge because it was all I had left of my world.

But then I got involved with these great Men, these heroes, knew them as more than characters in a book or random lust objects. Hell, I would've looked at Captain Jack Sparrow the same bloody way. But here comes the kicker, right? I fell in love with one of them, really IN LOVE, and I was forced to re-evaluate my outlook on my Middle-Earthian adventure.

And I already know if I ever actually tell this tale, people will just shake their heads, say "Oh, another crazed Mary Sue after Legolas," and walk away. Hell, I wouldn't blame them if they did. I'd probably do the same thing. I might be a Mary Sue, but I wouldn't trade this adventure, frightening, dangerous, and bloody as it may be, for ANYTHING.

I no longer do this for me. It's for Frodo. For Sam. Merry and Pippin. My friends.

And my brothers, as crazy as they may be.

111

The royalty of our little group and our reunited Fellowship rides at the head of the column, Aragorn in the lead, naturally. He is THE KING.

Every time somebody says that, I have a horrible urge to do a bad Elvis impersonation, or burst into song. 'Henry the Eighth.' You know, "Henry the Eighth, I am, I am. Henry the Eighth I am'? That one.

And we also have Eomer, Eowyn (against Faramir's strenuous objections), Boromir, Faramir (over Boromir's strenuous objections), Legolas and Gimli, Merry, Pippin, Hal, the twins, Gandalf, and me. Why I'm up here in this esteemed company and not back with the rest of the peons is sort of beyond me, but Boromir and Legolas insisted. Aragorn doesn't give a flying fuck at a rolling doughnut where I ride, as long as I'm quiet.

Trust me, he said so. Loudly. Over everybody else. Well, he said he didn't give a damn, but, same diff.

Next to me, Hal rolls his shoulders and adjusts his quiver-strap for the billionth time. Boromir rearranges his shield and nearly brains Pippin. Gimli complains about Legolas's knives poking him. Merry munches an apple. Loudly. And yes, the Hobbits really did bring food. Faramir and Eowyn continue to glare at each other. Gandalf fiddles with his sword belt. Legolas keeps fiddling with the buckle on his quiver strap. The twins are completely silent, eyes open and glazed. Jesus, I think they're asleep. Eomer glares at the top of Merry's head as the Hobbit continues to chew as loudly as he possibly can.

Nervous twitches are fun to watch. Hee.

I shift my hands on the reins and roll my own shoulders. Up ahead, the Black Gate looms. I think this is what they had in mind when they invented the word 'ominous.' I think I finally realize what Gimli had in mind when he mutters about 'suicide' and 'bloody crazy human kings' under his breath.

Ye Gods, are we actually gonna charge on that damn thing?

Aragorn pulls Brego to walk and holds up a hand to halt the column. Oh, fuck, why did I wanna do this?

Legolas leans toward me. "Peace, Kayli."

"You be fucking peaceful."

He laughs quietly. "I'll let you know when I acheive it."

Gimli makes a rude noise. "Bloody Elves, always telling people to be peaceful when they can't get there them damn selves. Hypocritical, nancing bastards."

That actually makes me laugh.

Hal leans over. "Are they ALWAYS like this?"

"No."

"Thank Eru."

"Usually they're worse."

He shakes his head. "How have you all managed not to kill them?"

"Entertainment value."

We all gather around Aragorn, who's just sitting there, gazing at the Black Gate. "Where are they?" Merry asks.

Hmm. All in all, a good question. I really don't wanna know the answer, though.

Aragorn heads toward the Gate, and the rest of us follow. "Let the Lord of the Black Land come forth!" he hollers. "Let justice be done upon him!"

A few very, very tense moments later, the Gate begins to creak open. Aragorn looks satisified. We turn and charge back towards the army.

"Hold your ground! Hold your ground! Sons of Gondor, of Rohan! My brothers! I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me!" He rides back and forth in front of us, his sword in his hand, a strange light in his eyes, and I suddenly realize...THIS is the King. Not just the King of Gondor, but MY King. Hoo boy.

"A day may come when the courage of men fail, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship. But it is not this day. An hour of wolves and shattered shields, when the age of men comes crashing down. But it is not this day! This day we fight! By all that you hold dear on this good Earth. I bid you stand, Men of the West!"

All in all, not a bad little speech. As one, the Men, Elves, Hobbits and Dwarf hold up some kind of weapon. We all look tensely towards the Gate.

"Never thought I'd die fighting side by side with an Elf," Gimli mutters.

Legolas turns to him and smiles. "How about side by side with a friend?"

The Dwarf is quiet for a second, then he nods. "Aye. Aye, I could do that."

I draw a second knife and grip the hilts so hard my knuckles go white. Legolas lightly touches my face. I look at him, suddenly very calm. "Be careful."

I nod slowly and let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "Yeah, you too."

Aragorn turns slowly to us, and nods once. "For Frodo," he says, and charges.

The Hobbits are the first after him. Then the rest of us follow.

Here it goes.

TBC...


	35. Here, At The End Of All Things

The next thing I know, I'm sorrounded on three sides by orcs, and an Elf and a Dwarf on the other. Gimli shouts something in Dwarvish, and Legolas lets out a cry that sounds like 'Lasgalen!' but I could be wrong.

An orc snarls right in my face, and starts to bring down his sword. I block, duck right, and bring up my other blade to open is gut, then bring the other one down to slit his throat. But right behind him is another, and another, and another. Somewhere, I hear a cry of 'Imladris' -- that would be the twins -- and another Dwarvish holler.

At least everyone's enjoying themselves.

I jump to the side as this short, scrawny, ugly guy with goofy eyes tries to cut me. I bring my left blade down through his skull and try to block a big, smelly one from my right. Well, they're all smelly, but this one seems to be smellier than the rest. Goofy Eyes goes down like a bag of rocks, and Smelly slices my hand.

I hiss through my teeth and start to swear. Next to me, Haldir raises his eyebrows and sweeps his sword across to chop Smelly's head off.

Spin, duck, block, chop, and bleed. Any warrior who paints romantic pictures of glory and valor should be drug out in the street and publicly castrated, I swear. Hal and I are doing an all right job of covering each other, but it's only a matter of time before we're overwhelmed and then it's bye-bye blackbird.

Please, the next battle I'm in, can my side NOT be outnumbered ten to one? Just once? After awhile it just gets ridiculous.

Another orc snarls at me. I hiss back and bury one knife in his throat. He manages to bring his short sword up and slice me above the eye.

Ow! Ow, ow. Why is it always ME? Why is it that nobody else ever gets a bloody scratch? The Gods of this world have a nasty sense of humor, let me tell you.

His blade slices down over the left side of my face as he falls, and I curse. I wipe blood out of my eye and spin to face the next one.

111

I seem to have lost Hal. But I found Merry and Pippin, so that's cool, right? They're good with their little swords, a helluva lot better than you'd expect. We're covering each other as best we can, but Merry's limping and Pippin's holding his left arm tightly to his chest.

"ARAGORN!"

Oh, shit. What now?

Without a word, the three of us start to try and hack our way to where we last saw his Reluctant Highness.

"Pip, left!" Merry yells, and Pippin brings his little sword around and slices through the orc's leg at the knee. Merry brings his up under it's ribs.

See, what'd I tell you? They're good.

I hear a high, piercing cry, like some kind of cracked-out bird, and the rush of wings, and look up.

Fucking-A, those things are UGLY! Eowyn wasn't exaggerating in her description. So, yeah, those are the Nazgul, and things have suddenly taken another turn for the worst. And just when you thought it could never get any worse. Hah!

Suddenly, Merry starts to yell. "The Eagles are coming! The Eagles are coming!"

Is it just me, or does that sound alot like "The British are coming! The British are coming!"

Yeah, probably just me. Sorry. I'd say it won't happen again, but I hate to lie.

I grab Merry by the collar to keep him from being trampled by a running troll. Pippin points over my shoulder. "Look! Look at the mountain!"

I turn, and stop, and stare. Mount Doom is erupting, spewing lava everywhere. And the ground starts to shake, and collapse around us. I grab Merry and Pippiin and pull them close, sheilding them as much as they'll let me. A split second later, Legolas is buy my side, his hand on my hair, and Gimli's close behind him. Pippin starts to scream. "Frodo! Frodo!"

Legolas grabs my arms and yanks me to my feet. "We must go!"

I struggle against him, clawing and scratching like a girl. "No! Frodo and Sam!"

He twirls me around and tilts my head back. "Look! Gandalf and Gwaihir have gone to search for them!"

I collapse back against him, and Merry and Pippin lean against me. Suddenly, we're all very, very weak. Legolas loops an arm around my waist to keep me standing. Pippin presses his face into my tunic.

It only takes a few minutes until we're all gathered around each other, leaning on each other, in most cases, watching Mount Doom erupt. There's very little fighting going on, unless you count the Riders and Gondorians tripping and clobbering some of the orcs that run by. Eowyn and Faramir are standing with their arms wrapped tightly around each other. Boromir is leaning on Aragorn, taking the weight off a nasty-looking gash in his thigh.

After a moment, Aragorn leans over and claps Legolas on the shoulder. The Elf shifts, tearing his eyes away from the mountain to look at the King. "Come, we must gather the Men and return to Minas Tirith." He glances at me. "Can you walk, Kayli?"

I manage to nod. "Yes, my Lord."

He glances at me sharply, given the title, then gives a small, ironic smile. "Then you get to support your brother, my Lady, while the rest of us round up the troops."

I make a face. "Well, I suppose."

Boromir gives a sad excuse for a laugh and leans on my shoulder. "Thank you, dear sister."

I grunt. "Thank me if you make it back alive. You weigh a ton."

Faramr laughs at that, and follows Aragorn. I lead Boromir to the horses. "Shall we, my Lord?"

111

It's an odd feeling, to enter a city a hero.

Or to enter with a group of them.

The people are cheering, laughing, and I've seen more than a few tears from my place beside Boromir. Tears as mothers rush out to greet sons, sisters to brothers, husbands to wives. If they don't knock it the hell off, it's gonna start to affect me. I hate to cry.

We dismount in the courtyard. Faramir is immediately at his brother's side, letting him lean on his shoulder as we all limp toward the Halls of Healing. We don't even discuss where we're going, we just go. And I'm proud of myself. I only trip over my own feet once.

Is it even humanly possible to be this tired? You wouldn't think so. Ai, I think the room is spinning.

Without a word, Legolas takes my arm and lets me lean on him. Ah, that sweet, sweet Elf. I could kiss him.

But that would lead my mind down the path of badness, and I just don't wanna go there. Must think pure thoughts...Hmm, pure.

Do I smell doughnuts? No, seriously, I smell doughnuts. I miss doughnuts. And Coke. And Pixi Stix, and pepperoni pizza with extra cheese. Yum. My teeth, however, are probably holding a party. 'No more sugar and grease! Woo! And may I add a big hoo!'

I never thought the one hugest thing I would miss from my world, other than family and friends, would be freaking junk food. Learn something new every day.

Legolas gently deposits me in a chair as Faramir leads Boromir to a bed and rushes to find one of the Healers and some athelas. Legolas goes to search for a basin and cloth so he can wash the blood of my face. I'd forgotten about the gash on my fash entirely until he brought it up. Of course, now it hurts like a bitch.

Merry climbs into the chair on one side of me, Pippin on the other, and they curl up into my sides and almost immediately fall asleep. I so wish I could do that.

Legolas is suddenly just there, right in front of me, kneeling with a basin of cool water and a cloth that feels so good against my face. He begins to gently clean away the blood and winces at the gash above my eye, which I'm sure is very not pretty. "Will I live, Doc?"

He nods slowly, engrossed in his task. "Aye, although this cut will require stitching."

I jerk back out of his reach. "Uh-uh. No. Nope. Not a chance in hell, buddy."

He frowns at me, looking cranky for the first time since...ever. "What now?"

"Nobody is coming near my face with a needle."

Pippin blinks up at me. "You're afraid of needles, too?"

"Only when I need stitches."

Legolas growls under his breath. Yes, growls. It's very attractive, in a disturbing kind of way. "You will allow the Healer to stitch the cut, or I will knock you unconcious and do it myself. And I assure you, my Lady, my stitches will not be as neat."

That was a threat, yeah? I do tend to recognize one when it walks up and bites me in the ass. I'd tell him to try it, but I have a nasty suspicion that I'd wake up sometime next week looking like the Bride of Frankenstein. He'd feel sorry about it later, but that wouldn't make me any less scary. I flop back in my chair. "Fine, be that way."

He rolls his eyes and wrings out the cloth. "Sweet Elbereth, now she's pouting."

I glare at him for a second, then give in and laugh. "All right, all right. You've made you're point. Let the Healer at me, Dr. Frankenstein."

He stares at me. "What?"

I laugh harder and throw my arms around his shoulders. "You're too perfect, you know that?"

He shakes his head and unwinds my arms from around him. "You are very strange, did you know THAT?"

I girn at him. "Oh, yeah, some thing's never change, handsome."

The Elf stares at me for a long moment, then slowly shakes his head, smiling slightly. "Then may the Valar pity us all."

TBC...


	36. Pillow Fights and Family Ties

"Milady? Milady? MY LADY!"

I jerk awake, bolting upright so fast my head spins and then falls off.

Well, not really, but it sure as hell feels like it. Iariel is standing next to the bed, a tray in her hands and an irritated expression on her face, which is directed at the door, not at me. I wonder which brother managed to bug her. On the other hand, it could have been both.

I yawn and she smiles at me. "I brought your breakfast, milady."

I nod, too busy yawning to talk as she sets the tray on the end table. I mutter a thank you and rake my hair out of my face. Iariel suddenly lets out a cry and presses both hands over her mouth, staring at me with huge eyes. I stare back. "What? What?"

She hurries over to me, perching on the edge of my bed and poking at my face. "Oh, milady..."

I slap her hands away. "Ow! Ow, Iariel, that fucking hurts!"

Iariel immediately backs away, clasping her hands in front of her skirt and staring at me wtih wide eyes. "I'm sorry, milady, it's just..." she trails off and gives a helpless little shrug. "You're so kind to me, I hate to see you wounded."

I shrug and kick the blankets off. At the moment, I really don't care what my face looks like. I know it hurts, I know it can't be pretty, I know it's swollen, and I know I'm too hungry to care about much else. I grab my breakfast as Iariel starts laying out clothes for the day. One good thing about having a maid? I don't have to agonize about what to wear. She picks it out. Besides, she's better at it than I am.

"Your bath's ready, milady, whenever you are. Several of your companions were down yesterday to inquire after you, but Lord Boromir sent them packing, since he didn't want to disturb you. But the halfling brought you flowers, and..." She suddenly blushes. "The Elf Lord brought you this," she says, and hands me a single white rose.

I smile, softening like melted butter. Roses turn me into a giant marshmallow. Bet it was Elladan. "Which Elf Lord?"

She laughs. "I'm sorry, milady. I was just thinking how wonderful it must be to be able to ask WHICH great Elven Lord sent you a rose."

That makes ME laugh. "You have obviously never had to deal with the twins, Iariel."

"True, but it wasn't one of the Lords of Rivendell, it was the other one, the very handsome one with the long pale hair." She smiles at me, radiantly. "I think he fancies you, milady."

Legolas. That bastard. I turn my face away, fighting the tears in my eyes.

God, I hate this. I fucking HATE this. I am not some weak-spined little...wimp who falls to pieces over a rose. I refuse to allow myself to do this.

Iariel sits down next to me, wrapping a concerned arm around my shoulders. "Milady? Kayli?"

I shake my head, wincing as the gash on my face throbs. "It's nothing, Iariel. I'm fine."

I watch as her eyes widen and comprehension dawns on her face. "You're in love with him!" she exclaims, loudly enough to wake the ENTIRE CITADEL.

"Who's in love with who?" Boromir demands for the doorway.

Faramir, right behind him, gapes at him. "You mean you don't KNOW?"

Oh, fuck. Just kill me now, will you?

I flop back onto the bed, and Iariel immediately grows fangs and claws and verbally bites Boromir's head off. "What right do you have, storming in here like that? The lady might not have been decent!"

Both brothers protest at once. "She's our sister!" from Faramir, and a snort and a "When is she ever?" from Boromir.

"That's it!" I yell, and chuck a pillow at his head. It hits him square in the face and he stumbles backwards. Faramir lets out a cheer. Boromir growls and attacks.

"Faramir! Be a brother for once and come to my aid!" Boromir hollers, and promptly instigates the lowest brother-sister war weapon since time began -- The TIckle Tactic. Within seconds, I'm shreiking with laughter and trying to kick him in the head.

"Iariel! Iariel, help me!"

She looks shocked for a second, then grins, grabs a pillow, and thwacks Gondor's Captain right up the side of the head. I let out a hoot of laughter and grab my own pillow.

"Two against one! 'Tis not fair! Faramir, help me!"

Faramir laughs. "I think I shall join the ladies on this one, brother, they seem to be winning!"

"Traitor!" Boromir yells, then nabs a pillow with each hand and starts flailing.

I hear footsteps in the doorway, and when Boromir looks I hit him over the head, and my pillow explodes, showering feathers everywhere. Boromir spits one out and gestures to the newcomers. "Will no one come to my aid? I fear these wenches outnumber me!"

"Wenches!" Iariel shrieks, and hits him again.

"A true son of Gondor requires no aid against two women armed with pillows," Aragorn points out, and I glance toward the doorway.

There's the King, flanked by a Dwarf, two Elves, and four -- count them, FOUR -- healthy-looking, mobile Hobbits.

Merry and Pippin grin at each other. "For Gondor!" Pippin cries, and charges. Boromir tosses Faramir one of his pillows, and next thing I know, Iariel and I are faced with two maniacally grinning Stewards and a Hobbit of Gondor.

"I think we're outnumbered now, Iariel."

"Retreat, milady?"

I make a rude noise. "Not in this lifetime."

"Well, now, that's just not right, is it, Mr. Frodo?"

Frodo smiles slowly. "No, no, it isn't, Samwise. It isn't right at all."

"Oh, dear," Merry says. "I'm coming, Pippin."

Elladan and Elrohir look at each other, then smile slowly and clasp arms. "May the best brother win, 'Dan."

"See you at our victory feast, brother."

111

It degenerates from there, flailing at friends and enemies alike. I end up beating Elrohir over the head until he shouts, "Peace, woman! You've got the wrong bloody brother!" and retaliates.

Merry and Pippin are involved in a wrestling match over my last whole pillow, and last I checked they were on the same side. Iariel is swinging at Elladan, but is laughing to hard to hit him. Frodo and Sam are collapsed at the end of the bed, laughing helplessly. Gimli is chucking the little throw pillows from the sofa at Faramir, and Boromir and Aragorn are holding a mock-swordfight with nearly empty pillow casings.

You know it's been a rough weak when you have the royalty joins the pillow fight.

"What on EARTH?" says a new voice from the doorway.

"Eowyn!" Faramir cries, looking delighted until a well-aimed lavender pillow catches him in the stomach.

"Victory to the Dwarves!" Gimli laughs.

"You caught me unawares, stubby one! It shall not happen again!"

"For ten minutes," Boromir adds, and then the little pillow his him in the head. Wow, Faramir's got good aim.

"Do we want to know?" Eowyn says to Legolas, who's arm she has.

Legolas is taking the scene in with a smile on his face. "Nay, I think not, my Lady."

"Pfft! Good thing you kept him away until know, Lady Eowyn. The Elf would've been naught but a hindrance," Gimli says.

Legolas raises an eyebrow at him. "Ai, truly, I am sorry to have missed the morning's entertainment. Tell me, Master Dwarf, who kept you alive while I wasn't here to protect you?"

I laugh and fall back on the bed, landing on Elladan's leg, which earns me a yelp and a smack to the belly with a featherless pillow. "No more, please, no more. My ribs are gonna crack."

"We have her defenseless!" Pippin cries and pounces.

"Aye, defenseless with laughter!" 'Ro says, and aims his own pillow at his twin's head. "You shall not best us again!"

"They haven't bested us yet!" Iariel says.

"That's not true! I had you beaten!"

"Only because she was laughing to hard at your bumbling attempts to truly defend herself," Frodo says. It's always the quiet ones who cut so deep with words.

"Did anyone win?" Eowyn asks.

"Not really," Pippin admits. He wasn't really so interested in attacking as in finding a pillow that hadn't had the stuffing beat out of it. Literally. Lucky me, eh?

"It was actually going all right until Kayli starting beating on her own team," Aragorn explains.

"Oy! So not my fault! Hello, they look exactly alike! I didn't know he wasn't Elladan, it was hard to tell with all the feathers!"

"Who's side was the Dwarf on?" Legolas asks, arching a brow at his friend.

"Neither, thank you. I try not to get involved in family battles, but the bumbling young Steward hit me with a stray shot and I had no choice but to retaliate," Gimli says indignantly.

"And you, my Lord?"

"Which my Lord?" Merry asks.

"Aye, we're neck deep in nobility, my Lady," Sam adds.

"That one," she replies, and pokes her finger into Faramir's chest.

He widens his eyes at her, assuming that expression of flawless innocence he does so well. "Why -- my brother's, dear lady! Surely you can't expect to abandon my family in a time like this!"

"Ha!" from Boromir. "You waited until we were winning to join us!"

"What about me?" I demand. "I can see how meaningful your sister is!"

Faramir laughs, picks Eowyn up, and kisses her soundly. "Aye," he says softly, staring into her eyes. "Very meaningful."

Elladan and Elrohir simultaneously look at each other and roll their eyes. Iariel lets out a little 'awww' noise. Merry and Pippin collapse into a giggling fit.

I sit up and brush my hair off my face. Legolas looks at me for a second, eyes going wide, and then he pointedly looks away.

And it's at this point I realize I'm still in my nightgown. Well, it's not like it leaves anything to the imagination, but it's just loose enough to slip off one of my shoulders. Oh, the scandal! I tug it back into place and look around at my family.

'Dan drops down next to me and wraps an arm around my shoulder. "Feel at home yet, little one?" he whispers.

TBC...


	37. The Crowning Of A King

Reader poll: It's up to you, y'all. Should she end with Legolas or not? Should she stay or go? Let me know! (Hey, it rhymes. Hee)

111

A little over an hour later, we're all gathered in the hall. It's loud, full of talk and laughter. Aragorn is seated at the head of the table, watching. The Hobbits are gathered around Frodo, and probably more food than they're combined body-weight. Boromir and Faramir are arguing about Pelennor, Eowyn and Eomer injecting their opinion. Elladan and Elrohir burst in, and before you know it, they're re-enacting the battle using cutlery, condiment dishes, and water goblets for Oliphaunts. And bickering over who's view was better.

"No, no, no! That was over there, while the dead came in from the river."

"Yes, but we don't have a river, brother."

"Here!" Merry says, and hands over a bowl of blueberries.

Aragorn sighs and shakes his head. "You're going to make a mess," he says mildly.

"Aye." Elladan finishes arranges the blueberries and smiles, then pulls over the eating knives that are serving as the black pirate ships.

I shake my head and dig into my own food before they can decide to make it part of the orc army.

"My Lords?" one of the guards says in a hesitant voice.

Aragorn looks up and meets his eyes. "Yes?"

"There are visitors, my Lord, demanding to see Lord Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas." He nervously clears his throat. "They're rather...intimidating."

Elladan lets out a hoot of laughter. "Aye, perhaps an Elf Lord with golden hair?"

The guard nods slowly, and Dan punches Legolas in the shoulder. "Your Adar?"

Legolas grins and bounds out of his chair. The Twins follow him.

"Oh, this should be fun," Gimli mutters into his pipe.

111

"I am supposed to be able to breathe?"

"No," the dressmaker replies serenely.

I make a face and fiddle with the sleeves of my snazzy new gown. "Well, then I'd say it's perfect."

She nods. "There. Except for the stitches in your face, you almost look like a real lady."

As opposed to what, you bitch? A fake one?

She turns in a swirl of skirts and leaves. Iariel glares after her for a moment, then steps forward to fix my hair. "I'm sorry, milady. She has very distinct opinions about what a lady should and shouldn't be."

I'd make another face, but it hurts my stitches. "Yeah, I could tell."

Iariel finishes winding the braids up on the back of my head and pins them in place. "There. You look lovely."

I nod slowly. "Right. The scars add a touch of elegance."

Iariel shrugs. "They add character."

I touch the scars on my left arm. "Then I've got a helluva lot of character."

She laughs and smooths the braids. "Even without the scars, milady, you ARE a character."

111

I stand between Boromir and Faramir. On the other side of Boromir is Denethor, finally concious, but not really happy to be here. Next to Faramir is Eowyn, and I have no idea where Eomer is. I watch, feeling like a giant marshmallow, as Gandalf places the crown on Aragorn's head. "Now come the days of the King," Gandalf says, smiling slightly. "May they be blessed."

The crowd immediately bursts into cheers, clapping and laughing. Next to me, Faramir lets out a delighted laugh and steals a kiss. Boromir rolls his eyes. Denethor applauds slowly, like a man in a dream, as he watches Aragorn walk up the stairs and take his place in front of his people.

Aragorn holds up his hands for silence, and, bit by bit, the crowd quiets. They're too excited, too charged, too thrilled about having their King among them at last, to quiet immediately, but eventually they do, enough so that he can speak.

He takes a deep breath, and I can almost see him bracing himself. "This day does not belong to one man, but to all. Let us together rebuild this world, that we may share in the days of peace."

The crowd cheers again. Some time soon, I need to stop smiling. My face hurts.

Aragorn closes his eyes and starts to sing, quietly, a sweet song in Elvish. Note to self: Ask Hal or the twins what it is. It's beautiful.

He passes in front of us, and we all bow. He nods in return. I watch as his eyes catch Faramir and Eowyn's linked hands, and he smiles. Either he's happy they're happy, or he's just glad he doesn't have to worry about Eowyn pining away without him. Believe me, that girl is NOT pining.

But in no way did she sneak out of Faramir's room early this morining. Nope, not at all. Heh. Heh. Don't tell Eomer.

I lean forward as Aragorn stops in front of Legolas. They clasp shoulders, and Legolas smiles like he's got some kind of secret. Which, I think, in a way, he does. Behind him is a long procession of Elves. I can see Galadriel and Celeborn, all in white and silver, arm in arm. Do they always glow like that? Next to them is Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir slightly behind him, all of them decked out in their best royal robes, with circlets at their brow. I can also see Glorfindel, near the twins, and a tall, imposing Elf Lord with long golden hair, scary green eyes, and a striking resemblance to Legolas. Ah, that would be King Thranduil.

In front of all of them, however, is a white banner embroidered with the White Tree. I let out a most undignified squeak and clap both hands over my mouth.

"Is that her?" Boromir asks. His smile almost takes in his ears.

I nod. "It has to be. Oh, this is great."

Faramir frowns. "Who?"

Eowyn leans forward, her face suddenly glowing with interest and her eyes huge. "She's here?"

I nod again. "Has to be. This much ceremony, couldn't be anyone else."

Eowyn grins. "Oh, that's wonderful."

"Who?" Faramir demands again. "Who in the Nine Hells are you talking about?"

Boromir smirks at him. "Our Queen."

I laugh as Faramir's jaw falls open and lean forward to watch the rest of the reunion.

Arwen stops in front of Aragorn. God, she looks BEAUTIFUL. She has some sort of intricate, chained circlet on her head, and she's wearing a gown of this improbable pale green nobody else would be able to pull off. She smiles nervously and bows her head. Aragorn catches her chin in his hand and tilts her head back up so he can look her in the eye. There's a long moment, and then he kisses her. Hard. In front of all of Minas Tirith. He grabs her around the waist and swings her around, still attached at the lips. When he finally lets her breathe, she lets out a laugh and wraps her arms around him, her feet still an easy foot of the ground.

The crowd is cheering so loud, I'm practically deaf. My hands hurt from clapping, my face from smiling, and my eyes are burning with unshed tears. Eowyn and I lock eyes around Faramir, and then we both laugh. She holds out her hand, and I take it.

"What is THIS?" Faramir asks, eyeing us both.

Eowyn laughs and kisses his cheek. "You'd have to be a woman to understand, my love."

The brothers look at each other and simultaneously roll their eyes, reminding me of Elladan and Elrohir so much I have to laugh.

We watch as the procession continues, Aragorn greeting those he comes to, his whole face lit up. Being with Arwen definitely agrees with him.

The Hobbits meet his eyes, and uncomfortably bow. Aragorn takes a step forward, holding out a hand. "No. My friends...You bow to no one." And with that, he gets down on one knee, his head bowed, and all of us follow suit.

I've never seen people look more uncomfortable in my life.

Hey, that's what you get for saving the world.

TBC...


	38. Interlude Gimli

Now, I may not be the most observant person in all of Arda, but I see more than people think.

It's the beard. Tends to make 'em think my brain is squished, or something.

And I can certainly see something when it's right in front of my face.

Like the fact that my dearest friend, Elf or no Elf, is in love. Madly, deeply in love, and too blasted stubborn to admit it. Why?

Because she's mortal.

Elves. Thinkin' love's so common you can pass it up when you happen across it. It's not like picking a tunic, or what you're gonna have for lunch. You can't pick who you love any more than you can pick your parents.

By the stones, look at me and the bloody Elf! Ain't the same kind of love, granted, and thank the Valar. But I do love him like a brother, and I didn't choose it, believe me. My father's going to have a fit, and probably disown me. It's all right; I'll find my own way.

And there's nothin' wrong with the lass! She's a smart girl -- well, obviously not that smart, to have fallen in with this company, not to mention in love with a certain stone-brained Elf prince -- and good with her blades. A truer friend is rare to find, and she's unwaveringly loyal to us all. And she listens, even to the rambling tales of a Dwarf. Besides, it's not like she's hard to look at. A beard would do her some good, but those are my own tastes.

"Gimli," the Elf snarls, "stop grunting. And must you smoke that foul thing in here?"

I grin and take another puff of my pipe. I'm really not that fond of the stuff, but it drives the Elf insane. I like to keep him on his toes. "You wouldn't deny me my pipe, would you, lad? 'Sides, I gotta do something while I'm watchin' you sulk."

Those pretty blue eyes of his narrow to little slits, and I can practically hear him grinding his teeth. If he wasn't so well-bred, and the blasted bow hadn't been a gift from the fair lady Galadriel, I think he'd brain me with it. "I. Do. Not. Sulk."

"Really?" asks a new voice from the doorway. "What an interesting thing, since that's how I'd describe your mood as well."

Legolas whirls around, and glares at his father. King Thranduil is standing in the doorway, still dressed in his formal robes -- some dark shade of green, though either Elf could probably tell you the exact name of it -- wearing a faintly amused expression. His other two brats are not to be seen, and good riddance. They make my skin crawl. The House of Oropher is meant to be taken in small doses.

Legolas's breath hisses out through his teeth. "I am not sulking, Father. I'm...thinking."

One brow lifts. "About the girl."

Legolas suddenly looks shifty. "What girl?"

"The one with the strange manner of speaking and the scarred face." His Majesty -- and I use the title reluctantly -- sweeps -- nay, not walks, damn Elves never just walk like normal people -- over to the cabinet and pours himself some of that nancy wine. "The one who watches you constantly."

Ah, now, this is entertainment. I lean back in my chair and puff contentedly, ignoring when his Regalness wrinkles his nose and opens a window.

"Oh, she does not," Legolas snaps, and drops into her chair. "And her name is Kayli," he mutters, returning his attention to those blasted arrows.

Thranduil raises his eyebrows. "I suppose if I told you I saw love on her face you would scoff."

Legolas snorts. "Damn right," he mutters.

I look at his father. "Boy's daft."

His Majesty toasts me with his wine. "Touched in the head, I fear. Can't even see what's right in front of him."

"I am not in love with her!" the Elf snaps.

Thranduil's voice goes low and a touch dangerous. "I don't like being lied to, my son. Not even about matters such as this."

"She's mortal!" he snaps. "She's going to die!"

"Your mother was Elvenkind," Thranduil points out. "And she died."

The Elf flinches. I hate to touch a raw wound, but...Well, no I don't. He deserves it, for being so bloody daft. "Would ye let your fear get in the way of a little happiness with her?" I pause, then shoot him in the foot before he can run away. "Or of hers?"

"It's a sad day when the Dwarf sees sense before you," Thranduil says mildly.

I make a rude noise. "Most see sense before this one," I mutter, and kick up my feet to watch the Elf stew.

TBC...


	39. A Day In The Life

I am going crazy. Crazier. Absolutely loony. Pick your phrase. If I have to be trapped in this blood castle one more day I'm gonna run screaming off the battlements.

Why do I feel like I should be MARCHING somewhere? Oh, that's right. Because I've spent the better part of a year MARCHING somewhere. I don't know how much longer I can sit still. Eventually, I'm gonna snap, and somebody's gonna pay.

And there's too many PEOPLE! Ugh. Hate people. All I want to be right now is ALONE.

So I take a book out into the gardens, settle down onto a bench, open my book...and drop my head onto the pages. Faramir and Eowyn. Very recognizable...noises. I get up and migrate to another bench. No, you don't wanna know what I was talking about. Needless to say, I just need to find a different place to sit. In an entirely different part of the garden.

"Oh, my Lady, what a pleasant surprise."

Lady Althea. Oh, grrr. Of all the stuck-up, obnoxious ladies of the court to run into, it had to be Althea. The one who's pissed 'cause Eowyn got Faramir, in case your looking for backstory. Her sister Edana's actually pretty cool. We all had the pleasure of each other's company last night at Aragorn's coronation ball. It was alot of fun for me, since I don't dance. Or, at least, I try to avoid it whenever possible. I did enough to be polite. Danced with both of the twins. And Elladan made me laugh so hard I forgot the steps.

But, anyway, none of that is the point. The point is that I want to avoid Althea whenever possible, because, for some strange reason, she thinks it's my fault that Faramir chose Eowyn. Don't ask me why, but it is. I smile. Or at least, it sort of looks like a smile, I assume. "Lady Althea."

"Ah, Lady Kayli, we've been looking for you," says a new and very welcome voice.

Celeborn and Galadriel come strolling towards us, serene and glowing. I immediately bow, but it takes Althea a second or two to peel her eyes off Celeborn and catch Galadriel's amused look.She blushes and bows her head, and Celeborn takes my arm. "I trust you'll excuse us, my Lady," he says, and leads me away.

"Oh, thank you thank you thank," I mutter, still clutching my book.

Galadriel laughs and takes her husband's other arm. "Yes, she seemed delightful." She looks at me with those piercing eyes, and I wonder if I should just hand over my damn soul. It seems easier than her looking at me like that. I wish her luck of sorting through my thoughts. Maybe she'll put them in order before she leaves and I can figure out what I'm thinking.

"Why are you hiding in the gardens, child?" Celeborn asks.

I hold up my book. "All I want to is read this damn book. I started it this morning, and I'm still on the first page. I'm still on the first paragraph. First it was Faramir, panicking over Eowyn's ring not being ready, and then it was Denethor, mutterin about...something unpleasant, and it just went downhill from there." I gesture back to where Althea was. "As you can see." I roll my eyes. "Breakfast wasn't even funny. The Hobbits were happy, but Aragorn was wrapped up in some kingdom thing and Legolas was snarling at everybody."

Galadriel smiles mysteriously. "And you haven't been able to concentrate."

I make face. Celeborn taps my forehead. "Stop that. You're going to break your stitches."

Galadriel laughs again. "Peace, child. Everything will work out in the end."

"Do you ever understand her?"

"Me?" Celeborn asks. "Surely you jest. I'm her husband."

At least that leaves me laughing.

111

Why do I get the feeling it aint' just me? Everybody has up and disappeared since this morning. The only people I've seen were Gimli and Thranduil. Playing chess, disturbingly enough. And getting along, which just furthers my opinion that the world has turned upside down.

It's a relief when I finally find Legolas, which is scary, but I've gotta assume that somebody in this place is sane. And Legolas doesn't go all unstable like my brothers, as much as I love them.

I touch his shoulder, and his spins, looking nearly ready to bite my head off. "What?" he snaps. He looks at me for a second, then squeezes his eyes shut. "My apologies, my Lady."

OK, that's it. I have had ENOUGH of this my Lady crap. It's bad enough when fucking strangers bow to me in the halls, and address me as 'my Lady' when I walk into a room. I liked it better when they gave me weird looks and steered clear because they didn't know who I was. THIS is so much worse than being asked who gave me knives and sent me out into the unsuspecting populace.

"Has everybody suddenly forgotten my name?" I demand. "I mean, it's not like it's a hard name to remember. Kay-li. See? Short and simple."

He shrugs and turns away from me. "You should get used to it, Kayli. You're nobility now, remember?"

I blow my hair out of my eyes. I need to get out of here before I explode. By God, if I go, I'm taking somebody down with me, and the Elf is unfortunately close. His father scares me, so, no go. I shake my head and turn to walk away. "Will somebody come and find me when everybody's stopped being insane?" I mutter, and storm off.

Gimli and Thranduil look up as I slam back into the hall.

"Oh, Valar. Not another one," Thranduil mutters, and pours himself another glass of wine. A big one. All the way to the top.

"Have ye gone mad like the rest of 'em, lass?" Gimli asks, downing most of his ale.

"It's contagious," I mutter, and flop into a chair. Iariel's going to give me hell about wrinkling my dress. "You get without five feet of anybody in this fucking place, and the next thing you know, BAM! You're nuts. Loony. Certi-freaking-fiable."

Thranduil blinks at me for a second, then looks at Gimli. "What on Arda did she just say?"

"Everybody's insane and it's contagious," Gimli translates.

"Ah."

"It's bad," I confirm. "The Hobbits are still unaffected, but they're all with Frodo. Best to limit contact, I think. In fact, you two are probably the only ones not sniping at each other, which is scary. Even Legolas is crazy, and he's usually the only sane one."

Gimli and Thranduil look at each other and start to laugh.

I take it back. They're nuts too.

I shake my head and get up. "Excuse me, my Lords, I'm going to the stables. I need some fresh air and sanity."

111

Twenty minutes later finds me sitting on the paddock fence feeding Hershey an apple, and all my hairpins somewhere in the grass. Iariel's gonna give me hell about losing them. In fact, I think I can look forward to a good twenty-minute lecture.

The Fellowship ain't the only people who are cranky.

"My Lady?"

I resist the urge to beat my head against the fence. I'd probably fall off.

I turn my head enough to gauge who's behind me. It sounds suspiciously like Althea, and yeah, that's a person I need to see.

Whew, it's her sister. Edana. Pretty girl, maybe not that bright, but at least she's not a flipping viper like her sister. Unfortunately, she's head over heels for Boromir. Why, I'm sure we'll never know. Apparently her and Althea decided to keep it all in the family. "Yeah?"

Edana winces a bit at my tone, and I'm immediately sorry. I'm not going to say so, but I do feel a little bad. "I'm sorry to disturb you, my Lady, you just seemed..." She shrugs. "A bit lonely, perhaps."

I shrug. Am I lonely? I stop and consider, and decide I am a little, yeah. It's kinda hard getting used to being alone for the better part of a day, when you've spent a year sorrounded on all sides by some kind of people. Orcs, usually, but at least them I'm allowed to kill when they piss me off. "A little," I tell her. "It's hard to find company, though, since everybody's gone gonzo." Off her frown, I clarify. "Insane."

She smiles, a little, and it's in the smile you can tell the difference between her and Althea. Althea's smles are calculated towards specific aims. Seduction, contempt, charm, cold politeness. Edana's smiles are never calculated, but spontaneous, actual expressions. She's a sucky politician, but she's a gazillion times more likeable than her sister. She steps up next to me and lays her arms on the fence, reaching out a hand to stroke Hershey's mane. "Such a lovely creature," she murmurs. "I wish I could ride."

That makes me frown. "Why can't you?"

Edana makes a rude noise. "It's not...ladylike."

I laugh so hard I nearly fall off the fence. "Oh, that's PERFECT. I love it. I love it!"

She frowns, then a smile spreads across her face. It's a hard-edged smile. Here is someone who wouldn't mind giving the system a nice kick in the ass. "Could you teach me?"

I look over her green velvet gown. "Not in that. You'll need to change."

TBC...

Catherine Maria -- You are seriously one of the coolest people I have ever met...er, sort of met. Whatever. You rock, so much. You need to stop reading these at work before they have you committed! And don't worry about being MIA -- so was I, for way too long. I'd missed Kayli. As for the Legolas thing, I'm still not too sure, but I'll do what I can! Also, don't worry, I really don't think Kayli's going anywhere! By the way, welcome to Gondor, Edana.

Sylvia Viridian -- Hmmm, is that a 'yes' to my reader poll? Heh. As for Legolas, I think we all know how thick is skull is. Wow, that's the first time anyone's ever told me my Thranduil is good. Thanks! You are so far beyond awesome it's impossible!

Andrew Joshua Talon -- I don't think Professor Tolkien would like Kayli very much, but I do like to think he'd appreciate that I'm trying to make sure the spirit's still there. As for me, riding into battle... Uh-uh. I think I'd be hiding in the deepest hole I could find. And, by the way, you are very sincerely awesome. Thank you, hugely!

Becca -- Don't worry, it wasn't the first time I've been called evil! Thank you ever, ever so much. BTW, what was your view on my little reader poll?

yuhi -- You're awesome. Thank you so much. And don't worry, I think there'll be a few more chaps for you!

Laer4572 -- Hmm, you make several good points. But I really don't think Kayli is gonna go anywhere. That's THREE votes she gets the Elf. Thank you so much. You rock. Hugely.

Elven Mischief -- Boromir seems to be getting more review-love than usual, lately, but I think he deserves it (too many writers make him a bastard, don't you think?) Thanks so much!

Red Queen Kai -- I don't remember either, but it's always something I like to hear again. Sorry I took so long (RL SUCKS! BK SUCKS!) Thanks muchly!

CHEESECAKE: I'm so glad you liked it! Thank you!

Nevaer Lalaith -- Happens to the best of us. Very obscure review, thank you. Happy reading!

essence of popsicles -- Family is the most important thing in the world. Guess the Hobbits know that, huh? Thanks!

Aurien -- Here they are! Thank you!

Red-Devil15 -- Thanks! And y'all gotta stop reading when you're not supposed to be on the computer! It's ok, rules are made to be broken. You rock, hugely!

Rede -- Thank you! I like being gutsy.

Kat Hawkins -- Thanks. I'll work on it, maybe something with Galadriel. I'm working on FoTR Modified, but the Elf and some of his closest friends seem to have vanished. If you see three Elves, two Kings, a Steward, a Med-Jai, and an ER doctor wandering, please return them to my set. Thank you.

poolbum -- Oooh, a happy dance! Thank you!

A Smith -- Thanks!

a halfblood princess & Summer -- It's continuing! Thanks!

elrohir lover -- Thanks!

ArcherofDarkness -- Thanks. I think. Happy reading!

Jade Elf -- Thanks! You're awesome!

BtchieChrissy -- Thanks!

Iamaredhead -- Thank you for staying up late for my tale. You rock!

Redone -- More Thranduil. Isn't he awesome? Thanks!

Whew, I think that's everybody. You are all incredibly awesome. If I missed someone, I'm very sorry, and you're awesome too. Thanks!

Reader poll -- Three votes to get the Elf. No votes against. Still open.


	40. She's Back!

Sweet God, I never knew teaching somebody to ride a damn horse would be this much bloody work.

It would help if she'd been let near a horse, oh, in her ENTIRE LIFE. She hasn't even left Minas Tirith. Like, ever. I realize these are -- er, where -- dark times, but I cannot imagine being forced to stay within the walls forever. It must suck.

If Boromir ever tried to hold me prisoner in the castle I'd knock his teeth out, and he knows it. I am definitely not the quiet, docile type.

But I have to remember that Edana and I have only been out here for two days. She's learning. She can stay on the horse now. She doesn't tip off the side. And that's a plus. And every time she falls off, she swears. It's hilarious.

"Already set out to turn the nobility on it's ear, Kayli?" Faramir asks from the fence. Edana promptly turns red.

I give him a cheeky smile. "I try." I take the mare's lead rein and slowly walk over to the fence. "What's up?"

"Orcs. Near Ithilien. I thought perhaps you might be going as mad as I, locked up in this place." He grins at me. "Besides, it'll give Lady Edana a chance to rest."

"Oh, HELL yes. Faramir, I love you."

Edana laughs. "Any chance to get out of these walls! She's been complaining for two days!"

"Not a surprise, lass is always complainin' about something," Gimli adds.

He and Legolas are now standning at the fence, with two other Elves I don't recognize.

Faramir boosts himself up onto the fence as I help Edana off the horse. "Fear not, my friends. I'm leading the lady in a great battle."

"Skirmish," Legolas corrects. "There probably aren't that many of them."

"Are we gonna be outnumbered ten to one? Again?"

Faramir shakes his head, looking serious, but his eyes are laughing. He's always laughing about something. Him and Hal. "No, my Lady, not this time."

"Nice change," I mutter, and Gimli laughs. "And stop calling me 'my Lady.'"

Edana bows to us and smiles. "Excuse me, my Lords, Kayli, I have to go have a nice, hot bath."

I hop up on the fence next to Faramir. "So when do we leave?"

Faramir shrugs and drops an arm around my shoulders. "Tomorrow morning. And what of you, my Lords? Shall you accompany us, as well?"

Legolas and Gimli look at each other. "I could use some orc-smashin'," Gimli decides. "What about you, laddie?"

Legolas smiles. "Someone has to keep you alive."

"Just don't get killed," one of the other Elves says.

"Father would never forgive you," the other one says.

For a second there, they reminded me frighteningly of the twins. Finishing each other's sentences and shit.

Legolas smiles at them. "I think I'll be all right. I'll be sure to tell Father I'll be fine."

"Finally," I mutter. "I get to be OUTSIDE."

111

I never, ever thought I would be this happy to be back on a horse. The ride to Ithilien was a peice of cake. So much easier than being a lady.

We've found the orc camp. It's still daylight. Late day, granted, so we have to work fast so we don't lose the sun. Orcs sleep during the day. That's really very convenient. And all the Uruks died with Sauron, so we don't have to worry about any big nasties. All in all, shouldn't be too hard.

Faramir's rangers have completely encircled the orc camp. Legolas, Gimli and I are crouched in some bushes. We can see Faramir, which means we'll see it when he gives the signal.

Can I just say again how much better this is than being in Minas Tirith, pretending to be what I'm not? Yeah. Much, much better.

I glance at Faramir. He catches my eye and grins. We all start to creep forward.

The orc sentries are easily taken care of, since they're asleep. One of them has time to cry out, which is good. It's no fun if we managed to slaughter them all in their sleep.

The others scramble for weapons, but recently awakened orcs are even less organized than usual. It's fairly easy going. About half of them are dead before we hear the horn.

And reinforcements come running out of the trees.

Behind me, Faramir starts to swear. "It's an ambush!"

"How did they know we were coming?" Gimli hollers, neatly slicing an orc in half.

"How could they have planned this?" I wonder, bringing my blades up against another.

I see a flash of long blond hair, pale skin...

She's standing on top of a little hill, so she can be seen by the troops, and also so she can be attractively backlit by the sun.

That fucking bitch. I'm going to kill her. Slowly. In great pain. I bare my teeth at the orc in front of me and slam my dagger into his chest, neatly between the ribs. Then I start to hack my way to Leilanni's little hill. She has her bow in her hand, and she's smirking.

Yeah, that's the same bow she used to shoot Boromir. Maybe I'll break it over her head.

As I watch, she gives a regal little nod to the Orc at her side, and he starts bellowing orders in some harsh language that really, really hurts my ears. And that's not an Orc, it's a Uruk-Hai. Guess a few of them made it.

Then everything goes black.

TBC...

I am evil, aren't I?

Sylvia Viridian -- Don't argue. You are awesome. And he's right, you know -- Thranduil and Gimli are VERY similiar. Short-tempered, occasionally cranky, blunt, pessimistic, and very, very argumentative. Just don't tell them I said so, either. As for the movie thing...my friend Kennie tells me I talk way to much in the movies, and she's right. I'm nitpicky, too. Thank you so, so much.

Andrew Joshua Talon -- Thank you, thank you, thank you! Hmm, that's quite the interesting suggestion. And it would be kinda cool...hmm. Thanks again! You rock!

essence of popsicles -- Angst! I love angst! I think Kayli would kill me, though. And Gimli is awesome, isn't he? Thank you so much!

yuhi -- You're awesome too! Here it is, enjoy!

poolbum -- You've been a great help! Thank you!

Hanna M -- That's a total of FIVE votes for romance! Thank you so much!


	41. Return Of The Sue

Remind me to never, ever get so cocky again. Fuck, my head is killing me. What did they hit me with, a tree?

"Kayli! Kayli, melisse, wake up!"

Legolas is shaking me and calling my name. He sounds kinda panicked, and he's patting my face. Maybe he thinks I'm dead.

"Ow."

I hear him sigh. "Thank Elbereth. I'd feared you wouldn't wake up."

"No, no, I'm alive. I can tell because of the pain." I crack my eyes open. "Ow."

Legolas smiles and smooths my hair back. "You said that."

I somehow manage to push myself into a sitting position, mostly by leaning on the Elf, who's being very helpful. Probably because he knows I have a concussion. I can tell because of how the room's spinning. It's either a concussion or blood loss. Lots and lots of blood. I have had far too many of both of those things over the last year.

After a couple seconds, the world stops spinning, and I take a look around. Gee golly, a cave. What a surprise. Have I ever mentioned that I fucking HATE caves? Hate them. Hate them.

Yes, I am babbling. I just had my brains stewed. You try not to babble when your brains have been turned to mush.

"Where are we?" Yay, coherency! Brownie points!

Legolas shrugs, and the gesture makes him wince. "I don't know."

I frown at him, even though it hurts my face. "You're hurt."

He smiles wryly and rubs his shoulder. "I tried to get past the guards. It was rather stupid of me, as they outnumber me six to one."

I roll my eyes. "That was stupid."

The Elf cocks an eyebrow at me. "Yes, I realize that." He rolls his shoulder and winces. "Now."

I manage to move towards him and start to poke at his shoulder. "Ouch! Kayli, that hurts!"

"Good," I say viciously. "You deserve it. Didn't they teach you NOT to attack orcs when you're severely outnumbered?"

"I wasn't thinking," he mutters, turning his face away.

"Well, that much is obvious."

"Must you?" the Elf snaps, turning back on me, eyes blazing. "I was angry, Kayli. As far as I knew, they'd killed you."

I wince and touch my head. "They almost did." I frown at him again. "But I'm sorry if I don't see how getting yourself killed was gonna help me."

He growls. I seem to drive him to do that alot. It should warn me, but once I get rolling, nothing much'll stop me. I really need to learn when to shut up.

"Where's everybody else? I mean, did she kill them all, or did they get away? Or --"

"They were interested only in us," Legolas interrupts. "Leilanni hasn't changed much."

"I hate that bitch," I say cheerfully. "I'm going to break that pretty bow of hers over her head. I'm going to rip her guts out with my bare hands."

"Well, it's so sweet to know you've missed me," she says sweetly from the doorway.

"Like syphilis," I shoot back.

Legolas shifts closer to me, keeping his eyes on the bitch in the doorway.

Leilanni smirks at us. "Aw, isn't that sweet. My prince, protecting you."

"I am not yours," Legolas says slowly, like he's talking to a child. Short simple words, and maybe it'll get through. Unlikely, but we can hope.

"You would've been, if not for her," she hisses, and points at me.

I give her the finger. "Sit and spin."

Legolas takes my hand. "Kayli, you are not helping. And I could never have loved you, Leilanni."

I snort. "She's not looking for love, she's looking for sex."

Leilanni glares at me. "She's turned you against me."

"No," he says. "You did that on your own."

"Oh, like you really care about HER," the Sue says, making a dismissive gesture in my direction.

Oh, this should be funny. Bitch doesn't even understand friendship. As you can see, she's all broken up over Mitanna. He'll explain it.

"I love her," Legolas says softly.

See? What'd I say? He always --

Whoa, whoa, hold the phone. What did he just say? I think that Orc hit me harder than I thought.

"WHAT?" Leilanni shrieks.

"What?" That was me.

"You're lying!" Leilanni again.

Legolas shrugs. "I do not lie. I love her."

Leilanni sputters.

"Did any of those orcs hit you on the head?" I ask.

He rolls his eyes at me. "Kayli, hush."

"Don't tell me to hush!" I snap. "You can't just drop a bombshell like that and then tell me to HUSH!"

The Elf claps his free hand over my mouth and keeps his eyes on Leilanni. I glare at him.

Leilanni sputters some more for a second and then points a finger at us. I think it's supposed to be threatening, but her hand is shaking. "I'll deal with you LATER!" She turns and storms out. Has to have a dramatic exit.

The Elf gets up and starts to pace, very carefully not looking at me.

"Now she's probably using what little imagination thinking a horrible death for us. Thanks a lot." I frown and scuff my toe in the dirt. "You just had to go and piss her off, didn't you? Something a little less dramatic would've been OK, you know. You didn't really have to lie to her."

He stops pacing and rolls his eyes heavenward. "Elbereth, grant me patience. I didn't lie to her, Kayli."

"You love me?"

He sighs again. "Aye."

Once more, curiousity overwhelms commons sense, beats it to death, and buries it in a shallow grave. "Why?"

He stares at me blankly. "Why?"

"Yeah. Why?"

He just stares at me. Meanwhile, my brain is approving my questioning of motives, and my heart is going 'who the hell cares! He loves you!'

The Elf mutters something obscene and runs his hands over his hair. "I do not know WHY. You think I chose this?"

When in doubt, go with the most insulting of all possible meanings. That way you can be pissed and avoid all the emotional confusion. "Oh, thanks. I realize I ain't the pick of the litter, but you don't have to be insulting, Legolas."

He sighs again. I seem to make him do that alot. "That is not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

The Elf shakes his head. "This really is not the time for this discussion, Kayli."

"No time like the present, hon."

There's a long pause. I'd say I'm watching him intently, breathlessly awaiting his reply, but we all know that's a big fib. I breathlessly await nothing. Not even him, which is pretty sad. What I'm actually doing is carefully retying my boots.

"You're twenty years old, yes?"

I glance at him. "It's rude to ask a lady's age, you know." He gives me an annoyed look and I shrug. "Yeah, twenty-one, actually. Why?"

"I was born over five hundred years before the first Ring War." He goes back to pacing. "You're mortal, Kayli, and your time is short in Elven eyes. It wouldn't be very long before you were taken from me."

I roll my eyes. "I've done the math, honey. But you'll also have forever to get over it. You can't possibly tell me that I'd be your first lover."

He shakes his head fiericely. "Nay, not the first. But the only one I've ever been in love with." He walks over to me and crouches in front of me. "I did not choose to love you, Kayli, but I could no sooner end it than cut out my own heart. You say that I would have forever to come to terms with your death. I think perhaps it would not be long enough."

Damn him. Why'd he have to be so...so...sweet about it? Why couldn't he have been an asshole like the rest? I sniffle. No, I am not crying, dammit. I'm not. "Well, you know, when you put it that way..." I shrug. "I still say you've cracked, but hey."

The Elf narrows his eyes at me. Uh-oh, I think I've pissed him off. "Oh, that's very kind. I hand you my heart, and you throw it back in my face. Obviously I am cracked." He shoves away from me and starts to pace our little cell.

"Legolas --"

"You've said all you need say, Kayli. I'll embarass myself no more." Legolas shakes his head slowly. "I was right. I should never have let you know."

"So, what?" I ask. "I was suppose to spend the rest of my life angsting over you? Being around you and SUFFERING, because I love you and I didn't think you did?"

"Now you know," he snaps. "Feel free to get on with your life."

I gesture to the walls. "How? In case you haven't noticed, we're sort of locked up."

Legolas lets out a long-suffering sigh. It's another perfected Elven technique. "I meant when we're free of this, Kayli."

OK, now I'M pissed. "That's it? You drop that little bombshell and expect me to walk away, and, what? Never see you again?"

"Human memory is short," he snaps.

That stops me cold. "I thank you for your...opinion, my Lord. And mine is you're a fool."

"Aye!" he explodes suddenly. "A fool for falling in love with a foul-tempered, sharp-tongued SHREW!"

We sit there and glare at each other.

A long moment passes, and then someone clears their throat. An Orc is standing in the doorway, looking as uncomfortable as an Orc possibly can. "Sorry to interrupt." He shoves a food tray at Legolas. "Mistress said to bring this to ya. Didn't want ya starvin' before the big finish." He peers at us curiously. "You know," he says to Legolas, almost conversationally, if you ignore all the hisses, "if yer really that crazy about the girl, I suggest you make up. Ain't got that much longer to live, after all. And her tongue can't be all that bad. You've never met my Gertha. Tongue could whip the hide off an Oliphaunt." He sighs happily. "Consider yerself lucky."

He wanders out. Legolas and I stare after him for awhile.

"Did we just get relationship advice from an Orc?" I ask. I hope I'm hallucinating.

"Aye," Legolas answers, looking mystified.

Nope, no such luck.

111

I curl up against my wall after I eat the gruel (which Legolas SO kindly doesn't want his share of) and sleep for a few hours. I wake up, nice and warm, curled up against Legolas's chest.

I blink up at him. "Hi."

He brushes my hair back. "You were shivering."

I yawn. "Thank you."

The Elf nods slowly, still looking at me. "Aye."

"Hey! Psst!"

The two of us exchange glances. Legolas arches an eyebrow at me, and I shrug. "Yeah?"

The Orc from earlier pokes his head in. "Mistress has called us all out. Now's yer chance, if ya wanna get out."

We both stare at him. The Orc lets out an impatient breath. "If I'm lyin', I'm dyin'. Just go. Yer weapons are right outside the door."

"Why?" I ask.

The Orc looks at Legolas. "She always gotta have reasons?"

"Usually."

The Orc shrugs. "You remind me of my Gertha. Bright girl. Now go, will ya, 'fore I change my mind."

He leaves.

There's a long pause. "This is, by and far, the weirdest fucking day of my life."

Legolas nods. "Oh, yes."

TBC...

Catherine Maria -- Honestly, I think Eomer would've flipped and killed Faramir. It would've been very, very bad. And you really need to stop reading this at work. Shame on you! Thank you! PS -- Any ideas about Edana would be more than welcome.

Sylvia Viridian -- Kings lately have way, way too many names. It's like an epidemic. Yeah, she's back! Thanks!

prettyfoot -- Ah, Denethor. Well, you see, Boromir lived, so Faramir didn't have to take orders from a nutcase because his brother was home, and standing guard at the side of the bed when he was injured. I don't know if he'll be causing any trouble, though. Thanks!

BtchiChrissy -- Thanks again! You're awesome!

poolbum -- You're suggestion is under serious consideration. Kayli's all for it. Thanks!

RedDevil15 -- It's here, it's here! Thanks again!

Kat Hawkins -- Arg! I want them back! And do yourself a favor -- don't let Haldir near the Ping-Pong table. He cheats. And take away Carter's scalpel before he hurts himself. Thanks!

Elladan and Elrohir -- Thanks! You're awesome!

halfblood princes & Summer -- I have been told a great many times that I am evil. And don't worry about Leilanni -- I have a special fate in mind for her. Thanks!

Andrew Joshua Talon -- Should we decide that Leilanni should live (and if I can keep Thranduil's hands away from his sword or her neck), I'll give you a call. All in black...Do you carry a Noisy Cricket? Sorry. Thanks again!

Hanna M -- Geez, with friends like that, who needs enemies? Kidding. I'm protective of my food, too. Thanks!


	42. Dear Abby

I stand by that statement. Weirder and weirder.

Our weapons actually are where the orc said they would be. Legolas's bow, his knives, and three of my daggers. The two Elladan and Elrohir gave me are gone. When I find Leilanni, I am going to chop her head off. I'm actually surprised she left Legolas's bow.

I want my knives back, though. It may sound stupid, but I am very emotionally attached to those knives. They were gifts from good friends, remember? Way back when? Those knives and I have been through alot together, and she will pay. Think of Aragorn's reaction if somebody took Anduril. Or Boromir with his sword. Or Gimli and his axe. You get the idea.

I sheath my knives. I'm a little steadier on my feet, but Legolas is staying close to me, ready to catch if I start to faint.

And I'm not even gonna start to go into the confusion there, y'all. It's one thing to be in love with someone you consider beyond your reach. An impossible dream. It's something else entirely for that dream to drop into your lap. Metaphorically speaking.

What the hell do you do with it? There is no way this can be an easy relationship. He has his duties, and I -- well, I don't have DUTIES, per se, but I have responsibilities, to my family. They're all I have here, and I won't sacrifice that. Not even to be with him.

See what I meant about this not being easy?

Legolas lightly touches my arm. "We must hurry."

I nod. When he takes my hand, I don't object. I hold on for all I'm worth.

111

"We're lost," I say for the tenth time.

Legolas hisses something between his teeth. "Yes, Kayli."

"What are we gonna do about it?"

"What do you want me to do?" he snaps. "Stop and ask for directions?"

I giggle. I can't help it.

Next to me, Legolas goes very still, then claps a hand over my mouth and yanks me back into the bushes.

Oh, ug. Fast moving still makes my head spin. Ouch.

Ah, now that the ringing in my ears has toned down, I can hear the approaching orcs. They're grumbling, but what else is new? Every soldier alive grumbles when he marches. Trust me, I've marched with enough armies to know. Even the Oathbreakers complained, and they were dead. Some things not even death can stop.

"Why are we working for her again?" one of them asks.

"Because she's evil?" suggests one of the others.

"Well, yeah, but...Sauron was better."

One of the others makes a rude noise. "Anybody'd be better than workin' for her." A sigh. "Evil's takin' such a turn for the worst. True evil doesn't spend that long in front of a mirror."

Silent laughter, silent laughter, must not laugh out loud. Oh, but her minions know her so well!

Legolas has his face pressed into my neck, and his shoulders are shaking. See? When you're scrambled, everything's funny.

The complaints of the Orcs are abruptly cut off by the sounds of arrows. "Leave some of them alive!" a familiar voice bellows. "They can't tell us where your brainless prince is if they're dead!"

"Brainless prince?" inquires another voice mildly.

"Aye. Brainless," Gimli returns.

"My father and a Dwarf," Legolas mutters. "The world has turned upside down. Any second, the Earth will crash into the sun, and Aragorn will leave Arwen for Gollum."

I crack up. Legolas shakes his head at me and calls out to his father..

"There ye are, laddie," Gimli says gruffly. "Next time yer plannin' on gettin' nabbed, let us know. Had us worried."

"What about me?" I ask. "Weren't ya worried about me?"

Gimli grins at me. "Nah. Knew you could take care of yourself, lass."

I laugh and throw my arms around him. "Gimli, I missed you." And I proceed to press loud, smacking kisses to his cheek until he blushes and pushes me on my ass.

The Elves around us give strange looks to the bloody human girl laughing hysterically with her ass in the dirt, but that's okay. They're not the first Elves to look at me strangely, and I have doubts they'll be the last.

Thranduil issues a few orders to his people about the disposal of the Orcs, then comes over to us. He looks Legolas up and down, then pulls him into a rough hug. "Idiot," he mutters.

"Seems to be a common opinion, lately," Legolas says drily.

"Let go of me! I DEMAND you let me go!"

"And I DEMAND you shut up. We can't always get what we want, now, can we?"

Have I told you yet that I love Faramir? He's so spiffy. He and Boromir drag Leilanni into the open.Gimli helps me to my feet and I walk over to her. "Hi."

"Bitch," she hisses, and Faramir cuffs her upside the head.

"You are speaking to a Lady of Gondor," he snaps. "Show some respect."

I reach out and pluck the knives from her belt. "These are mine." I turn my back on her and start to walk.

"Slut," she mutters.

And the next thing she knows, she's on her ass in the dirt, blood pouring down her face. Boromir looks so proud. Faramir looks impressed.

"Remind me to insult you from a safe distance," he says, and grins at me.

I rake my hands through my hair. "What do we do with her?"

"I have an idea," Thranduil mutters, hand on sword hilt.

Faramir nudges her with his boot. "Do we kill her, or do we take her back to Elessar?"

"How about we kill her, and take her HEAD to Elessar," Boromir says.

I shake my head and find a log to sit on. I have a feeling they're gonna be at it for awhile, so I plop down and lean my head in my hands. Maybe I can take a nap.

A few seconds later, Gimli stomps over and sits down next to me. "Nice little adventure," he says drily, and pulls out his pipe. He glances at me out of the corner of his beady little black eyes. "Must'a been interestin', bein' trapped in a cave with the Elf."

I stare at him. "You see way, way too much."

He nods complacently. "Aye, so the Elf says."

I shake my head. "I don't wanna think about this right now. I want to go home, take a long bath, and sleep for two days."

Gimli pats my back. "We're goin' soon, lass."

111

We eventually make it back to Minas Tirith. Boromir drags me to the Halls of Healing, but then I get back to my own rooms.

Eowyn, Arwen, Edana, and Galadriel are all gathered in the sitting room, Iariel serving them tea. When they see me, Iariel sets the tea tray down with a bang and rushes over to hug me. "Oh, milady, we were so worried!"

Arwen and Eowyn are right behind her. Eowyn hugs me quickly. "Are you hurt?"

I shake my head. "Boromir already drug me to see Ioreth."

"She's a good Healer," Iariel approvves.

"She's a dragon," I say, and yawn.

"So you're not hurt?" Arwen asks, looking concerned.

Galadriel interrupts smoothly. "Don't worry, Arwen. Her hurts aren't physical."

Eowyn frowns. "What do you--" She suddenly spins back to me. "The Elf! What did he do?"

I flop down onto the chair. "Confessed his undying love, basically."

Iariel drops a tea cup, which shatters. Edana is staring at me with her mouth open.

"Finally," Galadriel says, looking relieved. "This is lovely tea."

Eowyn finds her voice. "Is this a bad thing?"

"Beats me."

Galadriel sets her tea cup down with a thump. "Honestly, Kayli, can you two not work this out? Have you spoken to him?"

I yawn again, but they don't take the hint. "No. And I was trying not to until I'd had a week of sleep."

Arwen sits on the arm of my chair. "It'll all work out, Kayli."

You know, for being thousands of years old, Arwen can be very niave.

"Love doesn't always conquer all," I say softly, wrapping my arms around myself. "Sometimes it doesn't even win one battle, let alone the war. You're very, very lucky in that respect."

She leans down and hugs me. "So are you," she whispers. "You just don't know it yet."

TBC...

Catherine Maria -- I gotta say, I'm very proud of that line. And also of my Orc. I didn't know if he'd work out in the end, but he didn't turn out half-bad. sigh Him and his Gertha...Thanks!

Sylvia Viridian -- It was believable, I thought. Kayli's reaction, not the Orc, although I do like him. Thanks, you're awesome!

Andrew Joshua Talon -- I'm sorry, I was kidding! You do feel rather sorry for them, don't you? Thanks! You rock!

yuhi -- Here it is! Thank you so much!

essence of popsicles -- OK, here goes. As for the Gimli scene, sorry, only one interlude per Fellowship member, but most of the stuff he's thinkin', he'll be saying out loud, 'cause that's just how Gimli is. As for the Hobbity chapter, Frodo's POV is coming up soon. As for Lothiriel, I'm not entirely sure who she is. Well, I know she's Eomer's wife, but other than that, I don't know a whole lot about her. If you can fill me in, she'll be here. (My books are AWOL. Tiff, I want those back.) Is that everything? Whew. Thanks so much!

cthulhus smurf -- That's sweet. And I think Kayli would agree with you! Thank so much!

Aztec Raven -- Don't cry! Thank you!

Red-Devil15 -- School always sucks. I can't believe I'm going back to that pain. Thanks!

Miraen -- Thanks!

ryuujin dragon king -- Don't ever tell his Majesty and the Dwarf you think they're adorable. It might lead to pain. Thanks!

Lobo Diablo & Demonic Angel -- I seriously cannot imagine Boromir's reaction (or Thranduil's, for that matter) if they brought home an orc! Thanks, you both rock!

Sekushi-Chan -- I was trying to get away from the normal 'girl-falls-into-Middle-Earth' story. Did it work? Thanks!

Destiny-Goddess -- Don't worry, the Orc has us all confused. Thanks!

Iamaredhead -- Is it good? I'll have to check it out. Thanks!

SarcasmSage -- I was SO worried about Kayli being in character for that chapter! Thank you so much!

Zeus -- Shame on you! Although I am very, very flattered you read this whole thing in one go. And I think we're all hoping that they get it through their thick skulls! Thanks! PS How's the essay coming?

Elven Mischief -- Is that what he is? I was wondering! Thanks!

No1 -- She kept her distance, I would think. Thanks!

chelsey-pudge -- It's always great to know when I succeed at what I set out to do. It happens so rarely! Thanks!

Kat Hawkins -- Give the scalpel to Ardeth (he'll keep it hidden) and send 'em back over. In fact, you can come along. Set's nice right now. And EMPTY. I keep losing people! Thanks!

Hanna M -- Coffee truffles. Hmmm. Thanks!

halfblood princess & Summer -- Isn't he great? Thanks!

Trisana / Kara -- Weird is good. Thanks!

#1LL -- Thanks!

Laer4572 -- We've all got our fingers crossed! Thanks!

CHEESECAKE -- Thank you! You are also very awesome!

poolbum -- He appreciates it! Thanks!

elrohir lover -- blinks Um...thanks?

Someone -- Well, thank you! I hope your headache's better!


	43. Hmm, Wine

When I say I wanna sleep for a week, I mean it. That does NOT mean 'wake me up before dawn.' No, it means LEAVE ME ALONE!

Iariel will just NOT take the hint. She's bustling around my room, selecting a dress, chattering away about the schedule for the day. Fittings for the dress I'm wearing to Arwen and Aragorn's wedding, which is tomorrow. How time flies when you're having fun.

Yes, that was sarcasm. Although their was one horrible moment when Elladan suggested Frodo be the ring bearer and Frodo kicked him in the shin. Oh, did I say horrible? I meant hilarious.

I shove the pillow off my head and sit up. If she's so insistent, I'll get up. But I'm not gonna be nice about it.

Iariel finishes laying out my dress and perches on the side of my bed as I pick at my breakfast. I can almost see her going into 'Concerned Mode.' I am going to get another lecture on how I should sit down and talk to the Elf, and it'll all work out for the best. I spent FOUR HOURS listening to the same thing last night. One more bit of advice, and I'm going to scream.

I understand Arwen's point of view, and Eowyn's. They're both so blissfully bloody happy with the Men in their lives that they think everyone needs a husband. Well, I don't. And if the Elf doesn't want me, then I don't want him, dammit. I don't care if it's immature.

Iariel sighs and rubs my back. "Milady, I hate to burden you, but..." She sighs hugely.

I flop back on my bed. "If you offer me advice, I'm going to scream."

She quickly shakes her head. "Oh, no, milady. I was going to..." She blushes. "I'm in love," she blurts.

I sit up quickly. "With who?" I demand, grinning immediately. It's not me, for once. Huzzah.

Iariel mumbles something toward her skirt. "Didn't catch that, hon," I say, as kindly as I can.

She sighs again. "Lord Brioc," she whispers.

I pause and think about that. All in all, not a bad choice. He's good-looking, that's for sure. Also very kind, and generous. He has a title and money, but that doesn't really mean squat to me, and probably not Iariel either. She's been poor since birth, but content. Those are things vipers like Althea contemtplate.

I nod and hug my legs to my chest. "And?"

Iariel gapes at me. "And?"

I shrug. "I'm not up on Gondorrian customs on this, Iariel. What do you need?"

"Well, a dowry is proper."

I wave that off. "I'll talk to Boromir. What else?"

She gapes at me. "I can't let you do that!"

"Why not?" I ask. I'm genuinely curious. Iariel's my friend, and I have access to what she might need. "It won't have to be much, Brioc has everything he needs and then some."

Iariel sighs. "His sister doesn't like me."

I shrug. Hell, I didn't even know he had a sister. "Yeah, so? Can't please everybody."

She makes a rude noise as I reach for my juice. "Have you ever MET Lady Althea?"

I choke. "ALTHEA? Althea is Brioc's sister?"

"Yes," she says, and sighs. "It's hard to believe they have the same parents. Lady Edana is wonderful, and Lord Brioc is sweet, and kind, and generous, and --"

I hold up a hand to end the list of Brioc's virtues. "Yeah, Brioc's great. I pity him living with Althea, though."

Iariel sighs. "You misunderstood me, milady. I'm not asking you to help me marry him. How do you stop these feelings?"

I laugh. I can't help it. "Oh, honey, you can't."

"You have," she says accusingly. "Your feelings for the Elf Prince."

That stops the laughter like a kick in the head. "No, I haven't. I'm just not acting on them."

Iariel straightens. "Then I won't either. And they'll go away."

"No," I say softly. "They won't, no matter what you do." I take her hand. "Iariel, if you think you have a chance, go for it. Station doesn't matter, and anything else you need, I'll take care of. Don't pass up a chance to be happy."

"Good advice," a twin suggests from the doorway.

Iariel immediately blushes and hops to her feet. Elrohir lightly touches her shoulder before she can flee the room. "Kayli's right," he says gently. "Do not follow her example and harden your heart." He glances at me. "As loathe as I am to call her a fool, in this matter, she is."

I stick my tongue out at him and try to get my breakfast back from his twin.

"No!" Elladan yells, wrapping most of his body around the breakfast tray. "No, Kayli, you must share. The Hobbits ate EVERYTHING at breakfast! Everything! What they didn't eat, the Dwarf and your brothers had gone!"

"Tough." I squirm until I've got a firm hand on the tray and pull. Elladan grabs the juice before it can spill, but I get the tray. I'm happy. I start to eat and Elladan stares forlornly into the juice glass.

"Do you have any wine?" he asks.

I stare at him. "It's breakfast, 'Dan. I don't know about you, but I don't drink wine with my breakfast."

He sighs and drains my juice. "I was afraid you would say that."

"I can fetch some," Iariel offers.

"No," Elrohir says firmly. "He does not need any wine, Iariel. You can get some juice, if you'r so inclined, and perhaps if you could find some more breakfast?"

Iariel smiles at him. "I'll see what I can do, my Lords."

She hurries out. Elladan starts picking at my tray. After a moment I just hand it to him. I'm not hungry.

"You're going to simply fade away if you don't eat," he says. But notice out it doesn't stop him from eating MY breakfast?

I shrug and yawn. "Oh, well. What are you two doing here, anyway?"

"Avoiding Father. And Grandfather. And King Thranduil, just for good measure. Father's almost as nervous as Arwen, and the others are trying to calm him down. Well, Grandfather is, I think King Thranduil is there for the entertainment value."

"Oh, he is not," Elrohir snaps, and steals some fruit. "He and Ada are friends of old. But he does derive some sort of strange amusement from watching Ada wring his hands and pace."

Elladan shrugs. "At least it's not over us, for once."

I stand up and wander over to the clothes Iariel has picked out for me. "I'm going to change. Stay here, 'Dan."

He laughs. "No fear."

111

When I come out of the bathroom, the twins have been joined by my brothers, Eowyn, and Arwen. Arwen looks nervous, and Faramir and Eowyn are cuddling. There's a surprise.

"Do you feel better?" Eowyn asks.

I shrug. "I'm fine. You need to stop worrying."

Boromir frowns. "Is something wrong?"

I plunk back down next to Elladan. "Not in the classical sense."

He frowns harder, and glares. "Did the Elf do something?"

"Which Elf?" I ask, although I'm pretty sure who he's talking about. "We're up to out neck in Elves."

Elladan leans over. "I think he means Legolas," he says in a loud whisper.

"Oh, THAT Elf. Nothing in particular, why?"

Arwen opens her mouth to contradict me, but Eowyn kicks her ankle. The two of them exchange glances, then look at Boromir.

He glances at them. "Why do I get the feeling there's something you're not telling me, little sister?"

"Because you're not blind?" I suggest.

Iariel comes in with a food tray. She hands it to me. "Eat," she says firmly. "We can't have you wasting away."

I make face and start to pick at the fruit. "What did he do, Kayli?" Boromir demands.

"Wow, look at the time," Faramir says, and jumps to his feet, dragging Eowyn with him. "We really must go take care of that...thing. My Ladies?"

Arwen smiles serenely and follows them out the door. "Come along, brothers."

'Dan gives me a peck on the cheek, and 'Ro gives me a sympathetic look, and then they follow their sister. Iariel curtsies and follows them, closing the doors behind her.

"He didn't do anything, Boromir. You worry too much."

"Has he hurt you?"

"What? NO!" I shake my head. "Legolas would never hurt me, and you know it."

"I don't speak of physical hurts, Kayli." He moves to sit next to me. "But I know you love him, and that means he can hurt you."

I smile wryly. "He doesn't do it on purpose," I say softly. I push the eggs around with my spoon. They're cold, and I'm not hungry. "He loves me."

Boromir gapes at me, his jaw open, then grins. "Finally," he says. "Are you going to eat those eggs? The Hobbits didn't leave much for every one else."

I punch his shoulder. "What do you mean, finally? Did everybody know before me?"

"No," he says, and grabs my plate. "The Elf didn't know, either."

I roll my eyes and flop back on the bed. "Oh, that's great. Once more, the people closest to the problem are completely clueless."

111

Arwen is having an absolute panic attack. She's waited over sixty years for this. You'd think she'd be calmer. Eowyn, Edana, Galadriel and I are trying to keep her calm, but she's freaking out. Galadriel's using her best soothing voice, Eowyn's stroking her hair. And I'm about to pull mine out by the roots.

"Let's get some wine," Edana suggests. "Won't that calm her nerves?"

Galadriel smiles slightly. "If you ladies get into the wine, I believe I shall have to bid you good night."

I laugh. "For the nerves of the bride only, my Lady. We're not going to get drunk."

Arwen nods. "A little wine would be nice."

Eowyn and I look at each other and smirk. "We'll go," I offer. "We know where Boromir stashes his wne, don't we, Eowyn?"

Eowyn smirks for a second, then widens her eyes. "Why would I know that?"

Galadriel rests her head on Arwen's hair. "Minds on the path of purity, please."

Eowyn and I look at each other. For a second, she looks panicked. I can tell just what she's thinking, and then my mind hits the gutter.

We yell "Wine!" at the same moment and bolt for the door. Galadriel's laughter follows us down the hall.

111

Eowyn and I slam the doors closed behind us and lean against them, laughing breathlessly. Eowyn claps her hands over her face. "Oh, that was horrible."

I laugh and lean against the door. "Eowyn, shame on you! Don't think about it! Not around Galadriel!"

Faramir pokes his head out of his room. He looks sleep-tousled and really very attractive. I glance at Eowyn out of the corner of my eye and break into more laughter. "Think about what?" he asks.

I laugh harder. The only thing keeping me upright is the door.

Eowyn looks at him, then shoots me helpless glance. "Wine," she mutters. "Must have wine."

Faramir stares after her. He looks confused. "Do I want to know?"

I shake my head and wipe the tears from my eyes. "Oh, no. Definitely not."

He shakes his head and vanishes back into his room. Eowyn comes out of Boromir's room, holding three -- count them, THREE -- bottles of wine. I burst out laughing again. Eowyn grins. "I didn't want us to run out."

111

Three hours later, Galadriel has quietly removed herself from our little party, and we are all, completely and unashamedly, shitfaced. Edana is sprawled on the sofa, staring into her wine glass. Arwen is refilling her glass, and Eowyn and I are singing. Yes, singing. Shut up. It's an incredibly bawdy song more commonly heard in taverns (seedy ones) or among the extremely pissed Riders of Rohan, and not in the quarters of well-bred young ladies.

Eowyn and I stumble over the words and break down laughing as Arwen comes over to refill our glasses. "This is good wine," Eowyn says, and downs half her glass. You know, for a well-bred lady of Rohan, Eowyn can sure toss back her liquor. She holds it almost as well as I do.

But I've had alot more practice.

Arwen collapses down next to us. "That was the last of the wine."

"Awww," Eowyn says.

Arwen follows backwards, laughing. I toss back my glass and rise to my feet, a little unsteadily. "On that note, ladies," I make an expansive gesture that almost has me on my ass, "I think it's time for bed."

I reach down and hook a hand under Arwens elbow, pulling her up. She leans against me, still laughing, and Eowyn takes her other hand. "Off to bed, my Queen. We don't want you still hungover tomorrow afternoon."

"Hopefully you'll spend the morning throwing up and won't remember to be nervous," I say, trying for cheerful, but mostly just slurring.

Arwen let's out a high, drunken laugh. "Oh, happy thoughts!"

Eowyn and I guide her into her room. There's a blazing fire. "Oh, it's HOT in here," she mutters, and starts shedding her clothes. "Hmm," she sighs. "I wonder where Aragorn is."

"Oh, no no no," I say, and shake a finger in her face. "None of that, now."

She laughs and drops down onto her bed. "Good night, ladies," and she's out, just like that.

Eowyn and I look at each other and giggle, trying to shush each other at the same time, which just makes us laugh harder. We close the doors behind us, laughing as quietly as we can. "Oh, perfect," Eowyn giggles.

We stagger out into the hall, giggling all the way. "You can just drop me off in Faramir's room," Eowyn says. "You're going that way."

"Oh, no," I mutter. "You two are NOT keeping me up half the night. I don't wanna still be drunk in the morning."

Eowyn laughs. "Oh, no," she moans. "We forgot Edana."

We go back in, wake Edana up, mop up the wine she spilt, and drag her into the hall. She leans heavily on my shoulder. "Oh, I don't feel so well," she moans.

Eowyn clumsily pats her back. Our coordinations skills are shot. "There, there, love. Just let us pour you into bed."

We stumble down the hall. Brioc slams open the door and glares at us. "Edana! What did they do to you?"

Eowyn and I collapse into laughter. In doing say, we drop Edana. Brioc catches her and glares at us. "What did you do?"

"Nothing! God, Brioc, we didn't hold her down and pour the wine down her throat!" Eowyn finds this image hilarious, and laughs so hard she falls down. I toss my hair back, then wince as the gesture makes the whole bloody room spin. "Look, she'll be fine. She's just drunk. And before you get all high and mighty on me, boy-o," more laughter from Eowyn. I think the boy-o did it. "I happen to know you've spent the night that way yourself, and in far less prestigious company."

Brioc opens and shuts his mouth for a couple seconds. He looks like a fish. I start to giggle. When you're as smashed as I am, everything's funny. "I am going to kill Boromir," he mutters, and slams the door in our faces.

Eowyn and I look at each other and laugh before we start to stagger our way down the hall. I dump her off on a disapproving Eomer and try to remember my way back to my own rooms. Of course, my memory of how I got to Eowyn's rooms are sketchy at best. I turn around in a quick circle, but all that does is make me dizzy and I have to sit down until the room stops spinning.

"Kayli?" The voice seems to be coming from everywhere, and the room is all dizzy.

The voice sighs. "What are you doing sitting in the hallway, love?"

I look up and squint until Legolas's face comes into focus. HIs hair is loose around his face, and he looks gently concerned. He strokes my hair back from my face. It's feels very good. I smile up at him. At least, I think it's a smile. I can't really feel my face. "Hi."

"You're drunk," he informs me. Pfft. Like I didn't already know.

I wave a dismissive hand in his face and almost clip his nose off. Fast reflexes, that one. "I know that, genuis. I can't find my room."

He smiles slightly. "That's not surprising, melisse. Can you stand?"

I think about that for a moment, then I smile up at him. He looks very, very good right now. "I think so." I wrap my arms around his neck and run my fingers through his hair. "Have I ever told you I like your hair like this? All loose..."

He raises an eyebrow at me. "Very drunk." He puts his hands on my waist and gently helps me to my feet. I use the opportunity to lean against him. For support of course. Yep. Uh-huh.

He wraps one arm loosely around my waist and uses the other to pull my hair out of my face. "Why are you drunk?"

"Hmm. Arwen was nervous."

"So you drank?"

"Hm-mmm. Wine. Lots and lots of wine."

He sighs and kisses my forhead. "Come, let us get you to bed."

I look up at him and giggle. He frowns at me, apparently seeing the path my mind has taken. "Alone," he clarifies.

"Aww."

Legolas laughs lightly. "Boromir would kill me."

I narrow my eyes and roll my shoulders. "Not if I got to him first," I mutter.

He laughs again and starts us down the hall. I lean my face into his hair. Hmm, smells nice. He turns his face toward me, and I kiss him.

Legolas goes very still for a long moment. Then he gently frames my face with his hands and pulls away. "Nay, Kayli."

I sigh and lean my head against his shoulder. "I love you, you know."

His arm tightens around me for a moment. "No. I did not know."

I snort. It's a very unladylike noise. "Everybody else did."

He sighs. "That, I do not doubt."

I tilt my head back and look at him. He smiles and runs his fingers through my hair. "Why?"

He shrugs. It moves my head. At least I'm not dizzy anymore. "Everyone seems to know before I do."

I step up on my tip-toes and kiss him again. "It's okay," I say. I'm very easily distracted at that point.

TBC...


	44. The Morning After

Oh, my aching brains. Whoever invented the fermentation process should be put to a slow, painful death. I roll over and clutch my head, hanging it over the edge, just in case I puke. I rake my hair out of my face, and peek around the room.

This is not my room. This is very hugely not my room. My room is not this...green.

I cover my eyes. Oh, no. What did I do? What did I do?

I groan and roll over in the bed. Then I open my eyes again. Where are my clothes?

Oh, no. You've got to be kidding. The Valar cannot be that cruel.

I very carefully roll into a sitting position, keeping the blanket wrapped around me. Oh, there are my clothes, all neatly folded over the chair. Have I ever mentioned that Legolas is absolutely anal about neatness? It's horrible.

I pick up my dress, but the smell of the wine hits me and I drop it again. There is absolutely no way in hell I'm putting that back on. I'll throw up. I dig through his clothes and come up with a robe. Hmm, warm. And it smells like him. Nice. I tie it securely and poke my head out the door. Thranduil and Gimli look up at me with interest.

"Good morning," Thranduil says drily. He and the Dwarf are seated at a table by the window, enjoying breakfast.

"Hungry?" Gimli offers.

I shake my head. If I open my mouth, I think I'll throw up. Of course, shaking my head was a bad idea, too. Now the room's all dizzy again. I lean on the door until I'm sure I'm not gonna fall over. "Ug."

"Legolas went to get you some tea," Thranduil says calmly, picking at some grapes. "To calm your stomach."

"Rough night?" Gimli asks. There's a twinkle in his eye that's too much like something you'd see on Elladan to really trust.

"Don't know," I mutter. "Don't remember."

I make my way into the room and fall into a chair. Must not move so fast.

I lean over. I don't know how long I stay like that, with my head in my lap, but the next thing I know, Legolas is wrapping my hands around a cup of tea. "Here. Drink this."

"Is it poison?" I ask hopefully.

He smiles slightly. "No. Merely tea, to help your headache."

I peer at him intently. He's very carefully not meeting my eyes. "Did I...do anything really embarrassing?"

Legolas glances at me sharply. "Except for fainting and then throwing up for half the night?"

"Yeah, other than that."

"Not what you're thinking," he says mildly. "Drink your tea."

"Never fear, lass," Gimli says. "Lad slept on the couch."

"'Twas an interesting evening," Thranduil murmurs.

I hide my face in Legolas's shoulder. "Oh, God. What'd I do?"

He strokes my hair. "Apparently, you found the rooms rather...warm."

Ah. Well, that explains why I woke up without clothes. I sit bolt upright and almost keel over. "In front of them?" I whisper. I point in the general direction of the King and the Dwarf.

"Yes," Legolas answered. He's enjoying my embarrassment, I can tell. I can HEAR the smrik in his voice. "'Twas rather...interesting."

"Oh, God. Just kill me."

"My brothers were amused."

I hold up a hand. "Enough. Stop." I manage to get to my feet. "I need to get back to my room before Boromir sends out search parties."

"In that?" Legolas asks sharply.

I glance down at the robe. It's too big for me, but I've got it tied tightly. I check the belt and shrug. "Yeah. I'm not putting that dress back on, it smells like wine." I head for the door.

Legolas cuts me off. "Kayli, you are not leaving in my robe!"

I shrug. "OK." I untie the belt and start to slip it off my shoulders. Thranduil starts to laugh.

Legolas swears and jerks it back up on my shoulders. "That's not what I meant!"

"You said I couldn't leave in your robe." I stare at him. "Do you have another suggestion?"

"I'm sure he does," Gimli mutters.

Legolas shoots a quick glare at the Dwarf. "Kayli, do you know what your brother will say?"

I think about that for a second and decide, yeah, I probably do. I just really, really don't care. "Yeah. But I need fresh clothes and a bath. I'm leaving this room, Legolas. It's the robe or nothing. Take your pick."

He stares at me. "You wouldn't."

I reach for the belt again. He grabs my hands. "Must you shed your clothes at every opportunity?" He glances over my shoulder at the two quietly laughing by the window. "And in front of my father?"

"I can leave if you want," his Majesty kindly offers.

Legolas throws up his hands. "Fine. Go. If I end up on the tip of Boromir's blade, it's your fault."

"I'll get his leash out," I promise, and kiss his cheek. "There are some back corridors, so nobody'll see me until I get there. And if Boromir freaks out, I'll take care of it."

Thranduil's laughing quietly as I leave.

111

Twenty minutes later, I'm neck deep in bath water and seriously considering drowning myself. I made it back unseen, huzzah! And Boromir was already gone. I got the lecture and the death threats from Iariel instead.

Of all the embarrassing things to do...If not for the look on Legolas's face when I tried to give him his robe back, I'd chalk up the morning as a complete loss and go back to bed until tomorrow. Well, there is also one other teeny thing stopping me.

Wedding. King and Queen. Standing with Arwen.

It's gonna be great when the bride and two of her attendants are hung over.

Iariel comes in with fresh clothes and towels. "How's your head?" she asks, smiling viciously.

"Much better, actually, thanks for asking."

I sigh and get out of the bath. "Be nice, Iariel. The wonderful thing about drunks is that you don't have to make them feel horrible. They've done it all on their own."

She sighs and starts to run a brush through my hair. I wish she wouldn't do that. I can brush my own damn hair, thank you. I don't sit still very well, not even with a pounding head and a stomach that's apparently taking up gymnastics as a hobby. I dress quickly. "Do you want me to fetch your clothes?"

"Fetch her clothes from where?" Boromir demands from the doorway.

I consider beating my head on the sink. Iariel blushes and stammers.

"Where were you last night, little sister?" he demands. "I was worried."

"Noticed your wine missing, eh?" I finish with my dress and run my hands through my hair. "Relax. I was in Arwen's rooms."

"Really? All night?"

"Most of it." I hold up a hand to stop him. "I was with Legolas. He found me wandering the halls lost last night, and brought me back to his rooms. And before you start on that, I have it on excellent authority he slept on the couch."

Boromir softens. I can almost see it happening. He brushes a hand over my hair. "He took care of you, then?"

I smile, going squishy myself. "Yeah." I fiddle with my sleeves. "And don't bother with the lectures. Iariel took care of it. Not that you have any room to throw stones anyway."

He laughs. "That is certainly true. The other ladies await your presence."

111

They're on me like vultures the instant I step through Arwen's doors. The sun is shining through every available surface and I wish desperately for sungalsses and Tylenol-3.

"Where did you go last night?" Eowyn demands. "Boromir was having a fit this morning."

"Legolas found me wandering the halls," I explain, and fall into a chair, sheilding my eyes.

They all turn to stare at me. "No, it's not what you're thinking."

"Hmm. Pity," Galadriel murmumrs.

"Oh, my God." I throw up my hands. "This morning was horrible, and you think I should've made it worse?"

"Horrible how?" Arwen asks curiously, turning her head quickly. Galadriel moves it back.

I groan. "Don't even ask. Did I spill wine at some point in the evening?"

Eowyn shrugs. "The only thing I remember was the singing."

Arwen shudders. "That was horrible. No, I don't remember either, Kayli."

"Well, my dress smelled like wine this morning. So I stole his robe." I wince as Iariel starts to yanks my hair into braids. "Then he threw a fit about me leaving the room in it."

Galadriel laughs. "Ah, yes, very improper."

"What did you do?" Eowyn asks.

I shrug. "He said I couldn't leave in his robe, so I was gonna give it back."

"You threatened to leave his room naked?" Eowyn demands.

I close my eyes as Iariel finishes pinning my hair. "I told him it was the robe or nothing."

Arwen dissolves into laughter. "Oh, to have seen the look on his face!"

I smirk. "Yeah, it was priceless."

"I'm surprised he didn't take you up on the offer," Galadriel muses.

"His father was there."

"Ah, yes. Otherwise it wouldn't have been a problem, I'm sure."

"Oh, my God."

While the others are laughing at my pain, there's a knock on the door and Celeborn comes in, looks at the laughing ladies, then glances at me, who is NOT laughing, then at his wife. "Do I want to know?"

Galadriel shakes her head. "No, my husband. Definitely not."

"Ah. Perhaps one of you could explain why Prince Legolas is in such a foul mood?"

Now I laugh. "That's probably me."

"Ah," he says calmly, sets down the tea tray and kisses his wife. "I'll leave you ladies to it and go restrain Elrond."

Arwen sighs. "Is he still upset?"

"Oh, yes, for a while, he will be." He smooths Arwen's hair. "He's not worried you're making a terrible mistake, he's worried Aragorn won't take good enough care of you."

Arwen sighs. "That's new."

"He worries, child." Celeborn kisses Arwen's hair. "He's happy for you." He nods to the rest of us and slips out the door.

Iariel taps my shoulder. "It's time to get you into your gown, milady."

I sigh. "Yeah, okay. Let's do this."

111

Arwen looks beautiful, and frighteningly serene. It's almost impossible to believe this is the same woman who was having a nervous breakdown yesterday. She's dressed in a very pale color, white with a hint of lavender, and her hair is very, very complicated. I wish Aragorn luck with the pins. She has a lace veil over her face and a complicated circlet on her brow.

Eowyn and I follow behind her, two Elvish girls behind us. Eowyn's wearing white -- as usual -- and I'm wearing red. Yes, red. Arwen picked our gowns, so it was her idea. We're both wearing circlets as well. Boromir sprang mine on me this morning. A lady of Gondor cannot be without adornment, you know. It's giving me a raging headache.

We take up our positions, half-listen as Gandalf marries them. Gimli, Boromir, Legolas, and the twins stand with Aragorn, who looks kinda green. If it wasn't so wrong to enjoy the suffering of others, I'd laugh.

At the end of the ceremony, the share a short kiss, and turn to look upon their people. Who are currently cheering until they're hoarse.

And then we begin the procession down the aisle. Whoever arranged this should be shot, by the way. Guess who I'm walking with? Yeah, him.

It's a long line. Behind Aragorn and Arwen are Celeborn and Galadriel, looking misty-eyed. Then is Elrond, walking alone. Then it's Eowyn and Faramir, Legolas and I, the twins paired off with the Elvish maidens, Boromir and Gimli bringing up the end.

Legolas takes my hand. "You're supposed to smile, melisse."

I frown at him. "Why do you call me that?"

He kisses my temple, and I can hear the people on both sides start to talk. Eowyn smirks over her shoulder at me. "I'll tell you later," he whispers. "But smile, love."

I make myself smile. "This is not going to be a fun evening."

He glances at me. "Why?"

"I don't dance. Remember?"

He smiles slightly. "You danced very well, Kayli. At least until Elladan made you laugh."

"She started it," Elladan whispers behind us.

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Not."

"Stop that, both of you," Elrond says, not losing his serene smile.

"Sorry, Adar."

"Sorry, my Lord."

"Prince Legolas, you have extremely strange taste in females," Elrond says, then steps up next to his daughter as we enter the citadel.

"Oh, thanks," I mutter.

Elladan starts to laugh and swings an arm over my shoulders. "Peace, Kayli. For Ada, that was almost a compliment."

111

And now we party. There's dancing, and music, and laughter, and drinking. Lots and lots of drinking. I find a corner to hide in and settle down to watch everyone else publicly make an ass of themselves. Faramir and Eowyn are dancing, Aragorn and Arwen, Edana and Boromir (finally!) and Althea has cornered Legolas. I should probably go rescue him, but I really don't want to. The Hobbits are gathered with Gimli and Eomer, around food. Rohan's King is watching a pretty girl dance with someone else. He looks like he's been clipped with Sam's frying pan.

Have I ever mentioned how much I love not being out there?

"Do you not dance, child?" Thranduil asks, seating himself next to me.

I shake my head. "Not when I can possibly avoid it, your Majesty."

He looks out over the dance floor, catching his son's slightly panicked eyes. "Someone should help him."

"Yeah."

"I'm not going to, however."

"He's a big boy. He can take care of himself."

He laughs softly. "We're horrible. Wine?"

I make a face. "I've sworn in off."

"Ah." He fills his own glass. "Legolas will be so disapponted."

I laugh and cover my face with my hands. "Oh, God. I'm never going to live that down, am I?"

"Oh, no. You've given us much to remember."

The dance ends, and Legolas manages to get away from Althea. He heads straight for us, appropriates his father's wine glass, and drains it. "I don't like her."

"Oh, come on," I say cheerfully. "What's not to like."

"She's vapid, clinging, self-absorbed, and obnoxious."

"Other than that."

He shakes his head. "You could've helped," he tells me.

I make rude noise and start to look for my water glass. "I try not to go within five feet of Althea if I can avoid it."

"Wise," Thranduil murmurs, watching the people mill about the floor.

A new song starts, and Legolas takes my hand. "Come, Kayli. Will you dance with me?"

I curve my fingers around his. "If I step on your feet, it's your fault," I warn.

He laughs. "I'm forewarned."

He leads me out onto the edge of the floor and slips an arm around my waist. "I hate this," I mutter. "Everytime I come out here, I feel like everyone's watching me."

"Not everyone," he murmurs. "Aragorn and Arwen are too wrapped up in themselves today."

"Almost everyone," I correct.

"That's true."

I lay my head on his shoulder. Hell, if they wanna gossip, might as well add some fuel to the fire.

I was wrong. The night didn't turn out so bad after all.

TBC...

Catherine Maria -- Elladan is kinda brave, isn't he? Heh. As for Boromir, I think you are definitely biased, Edana. As for Kayli...I hope she enjoyed the morning after!

ArcherofDarkness -- So, the twins are more your speed? Heh. Thanks!

Destiny Goddess -- They are naive, aren't they? Thanks!

Mint Bubble -- Don't worry about the straightjacket vibes, I give out my own all the time. (Like tonight -- mustard is evil). Thank you!

Trisana / Kara -- Minds on the path of purity, please. For the sake of Galadriel's sanity. Heh. Thanks!

elrohir lover -- Thanks again! Big kiss. Big one.

Elven Mischief -- Thanks! You're awesome!

Laer4572 -- You never know with Kayli. Maybe they'll just live in sin? Thanks!

Kat Hawkins -- Thanks!

nienna-yavetil -- Oh, I'd say it counts. Heh. I love Hobbits, too. Thanks!

Auburn Arafura -- I love cookies! (even imaginary ones) Thanks! PS Chocolate chip? I'd settle for a big bag of M&M's.

yuhi -- She is funny when she's trashed, isn't she? Heh. Thanks again!


	45. Boromir's Battle Tales & The Rings Of Ga...

The party has started getting rowdy. Thranduil and Elrond are engaged in a heated debate about wine, Faramir and Eowyn are still dancing, Aragorn is dancing with the pretty girl Eomer's been staring at all night, Arwen's dancing with Elladan -- no, Elrohir -- and Althea's cornered Elladan. Gimli and Boromir are telling stories of their heroic deeds -- OK, Boromir's telling the stories, and Gimli's poking holes in them and telling them what really happened.

"Ha! You'd've been dead then if not for the lass! Faced down a Uruk army, my beard. He was half-dead by the time we got to him!"

I love that Dwarf. Glorfindel is chatting up some pretty young Gondorrian girl with...eyes bigger than her brain, and Galadriel and Celeborn slipped out the door hand-in-hand a little over an hour ago. Galadriel was smiling, not her usual, mysterious, I-know-something-you-don't-know smile, but a genuine, wide, happy, girlish, I'm-going-to-do-something-with-my-husband-that's-illegal-in-at-least-three-states smile. It was sort of scary.

Legolas and I have found a corner to hide in. Yes, I'm still with the Elf. Shut up. We're sitting behind Gimli, listening to him and Boromir. We can also hear Thranduil and Elrond, arguing about which vintage is the best.

"Is you father always this...intense about wine?" I ask.

"Yes," he whispers back. "Sometimes he's even worse."

I giggle. Boromir glances back at us, smiles, and then launches another completely improbable tale about Pelennor. After less than a minute, Gimli's staring wtih his mouth open and I'm laughing helplessly.

Eowyn drops down next to me. "Do you remember that battle?" she asks.

I shake my head. "Apparently, Boromir was at one battle, and we were at another, completely different battle."

Faramir makes a rude noise and hands Eowyn a glass of wine. He has ale in his own hand. "If he'd swung his sword that many times, his arms would've fallen off."

"I heard that, little brother," Boromir says.

"I was hoping you had, dear brother. Your audience should know the truth of the matter," and then he starts his own tale, which paints Boromir in a very unflattering light. I admit Boromir didn't single-handedly save us all, but he also didn't drop his sword and scream like a virgin maiden, whatever the hell that means.

I tune them out and lean towards Eowyn. "Who's the girl Eomer's been staring at all night?"

"Her name's Lothiriel, daughter of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth, by the sea." Eowyn giggles suddenly, a very girlish noise from the woman who stabbed the Witch-King in the face. "Remind me to tease him later. Oh, the look on his face!"

I laugh, and Eowyn interjects into Faramir's tale. "While I won't argue that you're marvelous in battle, my love, you are not THAT good!"

"What'd I miss?" I ask Legolas.

He smiles slightly. "Faramir single-handedly saved us all."

"Oh. Good for him. Where was I when that was happening?"

"The same place I was, apparently. I don't remember either version of the battle they were at."

I smile as Gimli starts in on Faramir. "Oh, yer both mad. How do you two come up with these delusions? 'Twas the Elves and the Rohirrim that battled the Oliphaunts, as all who were truly at Pellennor Fields could say. Wherever you two were, it wasn't with the rest of us."

Legolas, on the other hand, is ignoring everyone.

"Stop that," I mutter.

He arches an eyebrow. "Stop what?"

"You're staring at me."

He shrugs. "You're beautiful."

I give him a disbelieving look. "You're drunk."

The Elf smiles slowly. "Nay."

I glare at him. I can already tell what he's thinking. One embarrassing moment, and they never forget. NEVER. The memories of Elves. "Stop that."

"Now what am I doing?"

"Thinking about that which never happened."

He laughs softly. It's a strange laugh, one I've never heard from him before, and I don't know quite how to categorize it. But I suddenly think I'm in very serious trouble. "I seem to remember it clearly."

I'm blushing, aren't I? Why, yes, yes I am. My face feels like it's on fire. I bury my head in my hands.

Eowyn leans around me. "Did she really threaten to leave the room naked?"

Legolas laughs delightedly. "Yes! And she would have done it."

"Damn right," I mutter, not looking up. God, this is embarrassing. "Never happened. None of it. Not the drunkenness, not the thing with the robe, none of it. Hear me? NONE OF IT."

Eowyn laughs. "All I remember is the singing!"

"Singing?" Faramir asks curiously.

"Never happened," Eowyn and I chorus.

"There was no singing. No wine. Nothing," I say, and sit back to glare.

Legolas takes my hand and pulls me to my feet. "It's warm in here," he says suddenly. "Let's go outside."

"The gardens?" I say, and give Faramir and Eowyn a pointed look. Faramir has the grace to blush, but Eowyn just looks smug. Legolas pulls me outside.

111

We're both quiet. Legolas is staring at the stars -- Elves have a tendency to do that -- and I really don't know what to say.

You know, I've just realized, there's a whole bunch of things I do when I'm nervous. Remmber when I was categorizing everybody's nervous twitches? They ain't the only ones. I fiddle with my sleeves. I play with my hair -- or I would, if any of it was reachable. I pull on the chain around my neck, the one with the rings Galadriel gave me.

Legolas reaches out and catches my hand, looking at the rings. "Where did you get these?"

"Hmm? Oh, Lady Galadriel gave them to me. Something about..." What is it she said. "Uh, something about finding love."

Legolas turns the rings over in his hand. "Hmm. Yes, that does sound like Lady Galadriel."

I play with the chain to keep my hands busy. "What are they?"

"Betrothal rings."

I stare at him. "You're kidding."

He shakes his head slowly. "It appears she always knows more than she says."

I drop my head back. "Figures. What did she say? That it hadn't been foreseen, but she 'sensed it nonetheless.'" I shake my head. "Why is, when people know shit like this, they can never actually clue us in? I mean, it's not like it's some big huge secret, telling us wouldn't actually cause any harm, and --"

You know, there are very few ways to actually shut me up. Hitting me just pisses me off, and I swear. Shocking me into silence is nearly impossible.

I think he's found one.

TBC...


	46. Interlude Frodo

It's hard to believe it's over. It's hard to believe the burden of the Ring is gone.

It's hard to believe we begin the journey home tomorrow. It's seems like an Age or more has passed since Sam, my cousins and I left the Shire. But it feels good to know that we're going to enter Bag End again, to know that Sam will probably marry his Rosie. I hope that he and Merry and Pippin will be happy there again.

As for me...As Gandalf once said, some wounds never truly heal.

And, as ashamed as I am to say it, a truly large part of me is glad to be leaving Minas Tirith. We have friends here, I would even go so far as to call them kin, and I know they mean only the best for us. But sometimes, it seems they go out of their way to make us as bloody uncomfortable as they can. Which is why we Hobbits are currently on our way to hide in the gardens.

"I can't believe we're finally going home," Pippin muses. "That the quest is finally over." He sighs. "I'm going to miss this, but I can't help but be relieved as well."

"Aye," Merry agrees sadly. "I hate to say it, for they've been so kind to us, but sometimes, I swear, they go out of their way to torture us."

"Aye!" Sam agrees. "Why, just yesterday --"

Suddenly, Pippin claps his hand over Sam's mouth. Merry's jaw drops open, and Sam slaps a hand over his eyes. I turn to follow their gaze.

It's Legolas and Kayli. Really not a surprise, since those two are often seen together. One would almost say they were courting. That's if one hadn't seen what we're seeing right now, of course. Now one would have to say they've gone a touch beyond courting.

Kayli's settled into Legolas's arms, the first time I can say I've ever seen her relaxed, truly without the sheilds that seem permanent, even around us Hobbits. And if I may say so, Pippin can soften anyone. One of Legolas's hands is tangled in her hair. And they seem to be quite passionately attached at the lips. I quickly turn my back.

Pippin sighs and rolls his eyes heavenward. "Finally!" he mutters.

Merry turns to glare at him. "You knew?" he hisses. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought everyone knew!" Pippin whispers back. "Everybody else knew, I just assumed you did too!"

"I didn't know," Sam says, though his voice is muffled against Pippin's hand and his own is still over his eyes. He slaps Pip's hand away. "Forgive me for sayin' so, sirs, but could we find someplace else to go? Not that I think they'd notice if we blew Boromir's horn in their ears, but this is mighty wrong, goin' in their private things like this."

Pip rolls his eyes. "Private? If they truly wanted privacy, they should be somewhere else!"

Merry looks at them consideringly. "Honestly, Pip, I don't think they know WHERE they are, exactly. They seem rather involved in what they're doing."

Sam groans and puts his other hand over his eyes. "PLEASE, Mr. Merry, I can't rightly get the image out of my head as it is!"

I laugh, then quickly clap a hand over my own mouth. "Shame on you, Samwise Gamgee," I say, and then snicker behind my hand as Sam goes red to the roots of his hair.

Pippin giggles. "I wonder if Boromir knows where his darling baby sister is," he whispers. "Or that she seems rather involved in our favorite Elf Prince."

"Favorite Elf Prince?" I say. "How many Elf Princes do you know, Pippin?"

"Mr. Pippin, if you don't stop right this instant, I'm going to deprive Mr. Frodo of his favorite Tookish cousin," Sam threatens. "It ain't right, starin' at 'em like you're doin'."

"I'm not staring!" Pippin protests. "I'm conducting a study on how long the Big Folk can go without breathing!"

"May I suggest you conduct it elsewhere?" suggests a quiet, melodious voice from behind us, and we turn to see King Thranduil looking at us, one eyebrow cocked and a smile on his face. He very firmly doesn't look in the direction of his son. He has his arms folded across his chest, and he looks rather intimidating, even to a Hobbit who has carried the One Ring.

Haldir, however, next to the Elvenking, is looking at them curiously, a strange smile on his face. I think he's plotting revenge for when Kayli stole his clothes. Not that I, a kind old gentlehobbit such as myself, helped my fiendish young cousins keep watch.

Just don't tell him that. I fear he'd take it the entirely wrong way. Which would, in it's own way, be the entirely right way. See?

Exactly.

Pippin quickly remembers his manners and bows to King Thranduil. "Yes, Majesty," he says, with his best impersonation of humbleness. Which isn't very good.

His Majesty shakes his head and sighs. "Begone, the lot of you. Shouldn't you be off depriving the rest of us of breakfast?" He pauses, and glances at Haldir. "Stop that. I can see your mind turning."

Haldir just smirks. And I decide to get out of us out of here before one of my cousins does something that will make his Rumored-to-be-Short-Tempered-Majesty to kick us clear to Mount Doom. "Come alone, Merry, Pippin. Sam, uncover your eyes, we're going the other way."

"It ain't right,"Sam mutters, but follows us.

I guess I'm going to miss these adventures more than I thought. But I think I'll leave this part out of my tale.

TBC...


	47. Of Marriage Proposals And Bipolarity

This feeling of early morning disorientation is getting far too common. Next time I wake up, I wanna know where the hell I am, right NOW, dammit.

...And who I'm in bed with.

Last nights memories come rushing back, and I resist the urge to squeal or do something equally girlie and embarrassing. Instead I peek over my shoulder at the Elf -- still sleeping, you can tell because his eyes are glazed, and yes, it is creepy to sleep next to someone who sleeps with their eyes open -- and start to climb out of bed. He grabs my arm and pulls me back down. "Kayli, go back to sleep. 'Tis still a good hour 'til dawn."

I don't ask how he knows that. It's weird enough to wake up in his bed. With him. I really don't need to know about his Super Duper Elf Powers. Denial? Who, me?

I sit back up and push my hair out of my face. "Look, I have to get back to my own rooms. As much as this reminds me of when I was sneaking out my bedroom window while my parents were asleep, I have to get back and take away Boromir's sword."

He glares at me. "Who were you sneaking out of your bedroom window to meet?"

I roll my eyes. Trust a guy to fixate on the fact that sometime, maybe, there might have been someone else. It's good to know that some things overstep the bounds of little things like species and immortality. "Some friends. SO not the point of the spiel, love. The point was Boromir. Older brother. Very portective. Big sword. Remember him?"

"Yes, I remember him. What I fail to see is why you're bringing him up this early in the morning."

Have I mentioned that Legolas is not a morning Elf? Most Elves like mornings. Hell, most Elves like the entire day with all it's parts. Not Legolas. He hates mornings. If it were up to him, mornings wouldn't exist. Of course, I hate them too. I'm a very firm believer that morning is just there to keep afternoon and night from bumping into each other. But that's not the point, really. The point is, you wake Legolas up before noon without very good reason, he gets crabby. Like now. "Because of the big sword. Besides, he's probably noticed I'm not there, and I want to get to him before he's completely awake. He's easier to talk to and far more reasonable when he's not concious. I KNOW he's going to overreact."

Legolas sighs and tugs on the ends of my hair. "He's not, really. He loves you and he does not want to see you hurt or dishonored."

I snort. Every time I make that noise, Iariel has an attack. I think it's building up to a stroke or something. "Dishonored? Faramir and Eowyn do this all the time! Do you know how many times I've had to help her sneak back to her room in the mornings so Eomer doesn't kill my other brother?"

"Faramir and Eowyn are to be married," he points out.

I rake my hands through my hair and groan. "I can do whatever the hell I want with whoever I want, and it's none of anybody's damn business. I just want to keep Boromir from killing you. Or himself. Or me, naturally."

"There is a way to prevent," he says calmly, still playing with my hair. What is it with Elves and hair?

"Yeah?" I ask. I'm a little dubious about this, actually. I honestly don't think there's anything that will keep Boromir from flipping his lid entirely. "What's that?"

"We could get married," he suggests.

Remember when I said it was pretty much impossible to shock me into silence? Well, proposing is one way to do it.

"What? I'm sorry, I don't think I heard that right."

"Marry me," he repeats, still perfectly calm. Like he's saying something like 'good morning,' or 'looks like rain,' not like he's proposing MARRIAGE. To ME.

Meanwhile, I'm trying to pick my jaw up off the floor.

"You want to marry me," I repeat.

"Yes."

"You want to MARRY me?"

"Yes."

"YOU want to marry ME?"

"Why do you keep repeating the question?"

Sanity makes some attempt to take up residence again. "I'm checking to see if you've lost your mind!"

He seems to think about that for a moment. "Possibly," he admits. "But, yes, I do want to marry you."

Once more, curiousity wins out. "Why?"

He sits up and gently cradles my face in his hand. "Kayli, I would not be here if I did not love you. I want to marry you. I want you to spend your life with me."

I turn my face away and fiddle with the sheet. "I have a whole list of reasons it wouldn't work."

Legolas goes very still next to me and his hands tighten on my face. His face is very calm, but his eyes are very angry. Oooh, now he's pissed. "Really?" he says, and his voice is low. Another way to tell he's pissed. "That didn't seem to stop you lost night."

Ouch. Is it just me, or was that a low blow? Deserved, but a low blow. "I'm not trying to be nasty about it. It's just..." Why is it when I really need to say something, I can never find the right words, but at any other time I can just say whatever pops into my head? "You have your duties and I...my family's here. I just found them. I can't leave that now."

"I would not ask you to," he says gently. "I am not returning to Lasgalen."

"What?" I ask. "You're staying here?"

Legolas nods and pulls me close to him. "Aragorn has asked me to remain, and rebuild Southern Ithilien."

I frown and snuggle my head into his shoulder. "I thought Ithilien was going to Faramir."

"How do you know these things?" he asks. "Never mind. Yes, most of it is. But I've spoken to Ada, and to Aragorn. There are some of my kin who won't want to sail over the sea yet. Ithilien will offer them a place to go, much like Imladris or Lasgalen." He kisses my hair. "You will have duties to your King as well, Kayli."

I actually laugh at that. "Like what?" I demand. "I'm not a warrior, Legolas, and I'm not a scholar, and I can't play noblewoman. Well, I could, but I won't. I'm pretty much useless."

You do not give yourself enough credit for the things you have done, Kayli. You're a fine warrior."

"Yeah, I'm OK, but we're talking about something like following Boromir or Faramir, right?" I muse, turning it over in my twisted little mind. "Because the Men will never follow me."

He tilts his head in that insufferable little way all Elves have. "Why?" he asks curiously. "You have proven yourself time and time again."

"Yeah, to you. Trust me on this, Legolas. The Men of Gondor will never trust me."

He frowns. "I still do not see why, melisse."

I roll my eyes. He seriously doesn't remember? "Because I have breasts."

He makes a face. "I had forgotten the views of Men on this. 'Tis a foolish thing."

"Oh, yeah." I pull away from him and start to get dressed. "I gotta go find Boromir before he freaks."

"You didn't answer my question," he says softly.

Oh, yeah. That Question. The Big Question. I sigh and finish tying back my hair. "Look, I would love to. It's just....sort of a shock, you know." I lean down and kiss him. "I have to think. I love you."

"I love you, too."

I smile slightly. "Why do you want to marry me, anyway? I don't understand why you would want to marry someone if you're duties are going to keep you apart."

He laughs suddenly. "My reasons are purely selfish, I assure you," he says. "If I have you, no one else can."

I roll my eyes. Males. "I figured it was something like that."

111

I get back to my rooms, take a bath, and settle down at the table in my room to pick at my breakfast. Iariel is chattering about something, but what, couldn't tell you. I'm a little distracted. Duh.

Boromir's glaring at me from the doorway. I can feel his eyes drilling into my back. I ignore him and push my eggs around my plate.

"You weren't here last night, little sister."

I ignore him. He has this absolute talent for stating the obvious.

"You were with the Elf."

I keep ignoring him and pick up my plate. Oddly enough, I'm really not hugrny.

"You didn't answer the question," Boromir snaps.

"Didn't know it was a question, brother," I snap back. "But, since you've asked so nicely, yeah, I was with Legolas." I walk out hand my plate to Iariel. She gives me one concerned look, takes one terrified look at Boromir's face, then quickly curtsies and bolts.

Boromir storms out of my room. "You should not have done so," he bellows. "It brings dishonor!"

The fuse on my temper is even shorter than usual, and he lit it when he came into my room. Now it explodes. I spin around to face him and plant my hands on my hips. "Yeah? Really?" I storm over to his bedroom and slam open the door. Edana, who's not only there, but naked and apparently still asleep, jerks awake and clutches at the blankets. "Good morning, Edana."

Boromir glares at me. "That's different," he mutters. He's blushing, and seems to have a sudden interest in his boots.

I slam the door shut. "Really?" I snap back. "At least I know Legolas loves me! I know he wants me! Did you offer that to Edana? Did you worry about HER honor? Or do you just want a quick toss between the sheets?" I walk -- OK, storm might be slightly more accurate, but still -- back over to him. "Did you worry about that, or were you more interested in some gratification?"

He glares at me. "One night, and you're an expert?"

"More of an expert than you!" I yell back. "You wouldn't know love if it walked up and bit you on the a--"

"What's going on here?" Eowyn demands. She's standing in the doorway to Faramir's room, wearing his robe, her hands on her hips and with a very severe case of bedhead. "Your shouting is going to wake the whole damn palace."

"She spent the night with the Elf!" Boromir shouts, pointing at me.

There's a long moment of silence. No one really looks shocked. Faramir yawns.

"And?" Eowyn says.

Boromir turns and looks at Faramir, who holds up his hands defensively. "I have nothing to say." He shrugs. "As you can see --" he points at Eowyn -- "I CAN say nothing, brother. And even if I could, Kayli has a point. If she is happy, if she loves him, then leave them to their happiness."

I grin and hug him. "I knew you were my favorite brother."

Boromir sighs. I turn around and glare at him. "You, on the other hand, are NOT my favorite brother."

He touches my hair. "I do not wish to see you hurt, Kayli," he says gently. "Not in battle, and not in this. I know the Elf cares for you, but--" He stops and shrugs.

"But I'm mortal," I finish. "Legolas and I have had this discussion, brother. He's almost as worried about him hurting me as you are."

Faramir wraps his arms around Eowyn and holds her close. "What did he suggest?"

I shrug. "He proposed."

There's another moment of silence, and now everyone DOES look shocked. Eowyn lets out a girlie squeal and throws her arms aorund me. "Oh, that's wonderful!"

Edana hugs me from the other side. I didn't even see her come out of Boromir's room. "I was worried about you two!"

I roll my eyes. "Relax, everybody. I haven't accepted."

"Why the hell not?" Boromir demands.

You know, back in my world, they call that bipolar disorder. And they make medication for it.

I roll my eyes at him. "Can't make up you rmind, can you?"

TBC...


	48. Many Partings

Everyone's leaving today. And I mean EVERYONE. Eomer and Eowyn are returning to Edoras, for awhile, anyway. Then Eomer's being crowned, and he and every Rider he has to spare are escorting Eowyn back to Minas Tirith for the wedding. The Hobbits are returning to the Shire, Galadriel and Celeborn to Lothlorien, Elrond and Glorfindel are returning to Imladris. The twins are staying for awhile. Arwen's convinced they're staying to torment her. Aragorn's convinced it's him.

Legolas is returning, temporarily, with his father to Lasgalen. Then he's going with Gimli to the Lonely Mountain. They'll be gone for months.

A big part of me -- a big part -- is going to miss him. A huge part. Another part of me -- also very big -- is very, very relieved. And I think he knows it. It's wonderful to have a guy who understands some stuff at least.

At this exact moment in time, the sun hasn't even risen yet. Legolas was still asleep when I snuck out. I'm sitting on the stable fence, petting Hershey. She -- yes, she -- is content, and also very pregnant. The hussy. Elladan's stallion. Why they put my mare in with his stallion is sort of beyond me, but, hey, they followed their instincts and I'm gonna be an aunt. I stroke a hand over her mane. I still think she's a hussy.

"You're awake early," Thranduil says from behind me.

I just nod. He steps next to me. "Will you miss him?"

I look at him sharply. "You know, life was a lot more fun before everyone was so worried about my life," i mutter. "But, yeah, I'll miss him."

He smiles slightly. Hershey pushes away from me and immediately heads over to him. "See? You're a hussy," I say to her.

His smile widens as he starts to stroke her mane. "I worry about him," he says softly. "Out of all my sons, Legolas was the only one who was constantly in trouble."

I laugh. "Somehow, I can believe that."

Thranduil reaches out and touches my hair, then touches the rings around my neck. "He loves you, and I would not see either one of you hurt."

I smile. "I know." I lean over and kiss his cheek. "Thank you."

"What's this?" Legolas asks from behind us. "Should I be worried, love?"

I smirk at him. "Maybe."

Thranduil rolls his eyes. "Oh, yes," he mutters.

Legolas slips his arms around my waist. "Why are you out here so early?" he asks, meaning 'why are you awake this early' in the 'I hate mornings' language.

I shrug and lean back against him. "Couldn't sleep."

Thranduil pushes away from the fence. "We leave soon," he says quietly, then walks away.

Legolas smiles slightly, looking out over the grounds. "I will miss you," he says softly.

I snuggle back against him. I'm not gonna see him for awhile, so I might as well get in all the sugar I can, right? "I'll miss you, too."

"But you're releived that I'll not be here," he adds. He's not smiling anymore.

I stop and think for a second before I speak. Yes, think. Sometimes I do think before I open my mouth. It's rare, though, so don't get used to it. "Part of me," I say, eventually. "I need time to think, and you make that hard."

Whoops. I think that might've come out wrong.

He frowns at me. "I do not mean to push you, Kayli, but--"

I shake my head. "No, you're not. That's not what I meant." I squeeze his hand. "Just being around you makes it hard to think."

Legolas smiles suddenly, and my stomach does this funny sommersault thing. "I'll take that as a compliment," he says, and kisses me.

111

OK, now I'm depressed. I'm sitting in one corner of the hall, taking refuge in some pastries. I really shouldn't, or at least I should have something else with them. Just pastries are bad for breakfast. But since Arwen and Faramir are doing the same thing, I think I can get away with it. Aragorn is sitting next to Arwen, holding her hand and not saying anything, which is probably the best course of action right now. The Hobbits are stuffing themselves, which is really nothing new. Faramir just looks depressed.

Eowyn's gone, in case you hadn't guessed. They had a tender goodbye -- they really did, made me want to cry, but that could just be everything else -- and Elrond and Glorfindel left just after dawn. With Thranduil and Legolas and Gimli. So this is not a cheerful meal.

Honestly, I don't think I've ever been this depressed in my life, but I honestly think I'm at the end of the Depression Line. I mean, Arwen's never going to see her father again, and Faramir's a mix of panic and depression. It's sort of cute, in a disturbing kind of way. Honestly, much more of this, and I'm gonna cry. I HATE to cry.

We clean up the meal -- seriously, there's not a crumb left -- and head out to the stables. We still have one long gushy goodbye to get through before I can go and crawl back into bed.

Boromir is kneeling, having a final word with Merry and Pippin. Frodo is hugging a tearful Arwen goodbye. Sam is listening intently to Elrohir, who's handing him some seeds and leaves. Boromir hugs Merry and Pippin, and they come over to me. I lean down.

"We'll miss you, my Lady," Merry whispers.

"I'll miss you, too, my LORD," I say. Merry makes a face, and I laugh. "Take good care of each other, all right? And visit. And we expect letters."

"Lots of letters, Kayli," Pippin promises.I hug them both again, and they hurry over to say goodbye to Aragorn. Pippin kneels, and Aragorn urges him back to his feet. I keep forgetting Pippin's a Knight of Gondor now.

Sam comes over and hugs me quickly. "Goodbye, my Lady."

I kiss his cheek. "Goodbye, Samwise. Take care of Frodo."

He nods. Frodo elbows him gently. "Frodo can take care of himself, thank you," the Hobbit says, and smiles at me. It's nice to see Frodo smile. Honestly, I didn't see much of it during the Quest. He bows to me. "Goodbye, my Lady. We shall visit soon."

I kiss him, too. "You'd better. And take care of Sam," I say. "I expect you all to take care of each other, hear me?"

Frodo grins at me, then bows deeply. "Yes, my Lady."

Hobbits. Self-appointed palace comedians, the lot of them.

Another round of hugs and kisses and promises to write and they're mounted on their ponies and riding out, chattering about what it'll be like to be back in the Shire. Personally, I think they're going to send the entire place into a collective convulsion. They're all richly dressed, Pippin wearing a tunic with the White Tree, and Merry wearing Rohirric armor. Even Frodo and Sam are decked out in the best Gondor has to offer. And they're all armed.

I shake my head.

"They're going to send the place into an uproar," Boromir predicts, but he's smiling.

Aragorn smiles as well, clapping him on the shoulder and wrapping his other arm around Eowyn's waist. "Indeed. I wish I could see it."

111

"My Lady?" I hate being called that. Hate it.

"Yeah, what?"

Iariel flinches at my tone. "King Elessar sent for you, milady."

I sigh and slap my book down on the table. Yes, I am still on the same book. I've at least gotten through the first five or six PAGES. "Yeah, OK."

I wander downstairs. Aragorn's sitting behind his desk, which is piled with papers, looking rather frazzled. He glances up and waves one hand. "Please, Kayli, sit. I'll be with you shortly."

I sit down and cross my legs, pulling my feet up under my skirt. Bare feet are considered un-Ladylike. Aragorn finally shoves the papers off the edge of the desk and sits back. "Why did I want to do this?"

"You didn't," I remind him. "In fact, I think you would have done just about anything to get out of it. If not for Arwen."

He smiles wryly. "Aye. If not for Arwen."

I smooth my skirts over my legs. "You wanted to see me?"

Aragorn shifts some papaers around on his desk. "Yes. It's here somewhere."

I laugh. "I think you have NO organizational skills."

He laughs at that. "None," he admits, not looking too ashamed of it. "But I know it's here." He pulls out a sheet of paper. "Ah, here it is."

I raise my eyebrows. "What is it?"

"New orders," he says calmly, laying it on top of the mess on his desk and looking straight at me. Uh-oh. "For you."

"Me," I echo.

He nods. "Aye, for you. I have one troop of Men, based here, out of Minas Tirith, who now lack a commander." He settles back into his chair. "Boromir suggested you."

I run a hand through my hair. "You shouldn't listen to him, you know. He's occasionally delusional."

Aragorn actually laughs at that. "At times," he admits. "But I agree with him. There are few others I trust with my Men."

I smile at that. "Thanks, but they won't trust ME. I'm a woman, remember?"

Aragorn smiles. In a certain light, it would look evil. No, wait, it looks evil in all light. "You shall have to work hard to prove yourself."

I make a face, get up, and bow deeply. "Yes, your Majesty. Whatever you say, your Majesty."

He laughs and throws a peice of crumpled up paper at me. "Out! You begin tomorrow, meeting them at the training grounds. Now out!"

I slip out the door and resist the urge to beat my head on the nearest wall. I am going to kill Boromir.

TBC...


	49. Your Mission, Should You Choose To Accep...

Aragorn handed me the most inexperienced, inept group of Men he could lay his hands on. They're green. They're very green. If they got any greener, they'd have leaves.

And they SUCK.

I think it would help if they would listen to me. If they don't listen, and all that happens is they get their asses kicked, they're not learning anything. Well, there are learning a couple of things. Tolerance for pain is an excellent trait in a soldier. And humility's essential.

I spin, kick the sword out of one Man's hands, then kick his feet out from underneath him. Another one comes at my back. He seriously needs to learn to control breathing. He's moving loud enough to wake the dead. I kick one foot back, connecting solidly with his stomach. He doubles over, gasping, and drops his sword. I spin, kick his feet out from underneath him, then kick away his sword.

See? They suck.

The first one reaches for his sword. I step on his wrist. "Don't touch it, Bregil. I think you've had enough for one day."

He calls me an obscene name, and I kick him in the face. He passes out. Yeah, I realize that might have been a bit of an overreaction, but they're starting to piss me off. Starting, hell. They started last week.

I've been doing this for a month. A whole, damn month. The first two weeks I was patient. Then I started to get crabby. Now I'm out and out pissed off.

I plant my hands on my hips and turn so I can look at my Men. "You're terrible," I say, pitching my voice loud enough so that all thirty of them can hear me. "I think that maybe you should all just put down the swords before you hurt yourselves and take up a hobby where you're not allowed anything sharp. Baking, maybe."

"What would a woman know of battle?" one of them calls derisively.

"You forget that this MERE woman has disarmed and defeated every -- single -- one of you who has come up against her," I call back. "That not one of who has made it through my defenses. Half the time I don't even have to draw a blade. Hell, LESS than half the time!"

"You use unfair methods!" another one calls.

I laugh. "Unfair methods? Define for me unfair methods, mi amigo. You think that an Orc uses fair methods? If this were an actual battle, every last one of you would be dead." I turn slowly, gauging their reactions. Most of them look sulky. "The first lesson of battle you need to learn, the one you seem unable to grasp, is that you must never underestimate your opponent. But you all do it. Every time you face me, and you charge recklessly, convinced that THIS TIME, you'll defeat me. Why?"

"One of us shall!" one Man calls. "A mere woman is no match for a true Man of Gondor."

"Show me a true Man of Gondor and we'll try it," I call back. "If that's the case, gentlemen, I fear for the future of Gondor." I take a deep breath. I've given variations of this same damn speech for the past month. "I'm a soldier. Trained by two of the best warriors Arda has to offer. I've seen war, gentlemen, more war than any Man here. And I've survived by learning not to underestimate my opponent. By learning how to obey orders, even if they come from someone I'm not real fond of. Because, first of all things, I am a soldier. Before I'm a woman, before I'm a lady of Gondor, before all else, I am a soldier. And I obey Elessar. I followed him, almost literally, to hell and back, before he was my King. So when you think that you don't like this arrangement, remember that the orders don't come from me. They come from the King. You don't have to like it, but you do have to do it." I walk over, pick up my blades, and strap them back on. "Go home. Be sure to extend some effort tomorrow."

I walk away, listening to them grumble and curse my name as I do so.

111

I storm through the stable entry to the palace, slamming the door behind me. I stop, close my eyes, and take a deep, steady breath, then let out a yell and chuck one of my knives at the wall. Elladan ducks. Fast reflexes, that one.

He straightens, arches an eyebrow at the knife buried to the hilt in the wall, then turns back to me. "Rough day?" he asks curiously.

"Maybe it wouldn't have been if Aragorn hadn't given me the most inexpereinced, inept, greenest group of Men he could find, handed them swords, and sent them out on the unsuspecting populace. They're green! If they got any greener, they'd be TREES!"

He blinks at me. "Did you know you don't make any sense when you're angry."

I try to control my breathing, but it's hard when I'm angry. "Yes, Elladan, thank you." I head for the stairs..

He falls into step beside me. "Do they still not obey?"

I shake my head and pause to yank my knife out of the wall. One good thing about these endless practice sessions? I am building up some serious muscle. Iariel's already complaining about the sleeves of my gowns not fitting. Hence my spiffy new sleeveless tunic. "No more than the listened at the beginning of the month."

"Did you suggest they take up crocheting again?"

"Baking."

"Ah."

"I think crocheting was more insulting," 'Ro says, falling into step on my other side.

I shrug and push open the doors to the apartments. "I'm running out of hobbies where they're not allowed anything sharp."

Elladan sprawls out on the couch. "Let me see, what has she suggested?" He seems to think about it for a moment. "There was the pastry chef, crocheting, embroidery --"

"Yes, but then she said the only ones who could take up embroidery were the ones who knew which end of the needle to use," 'Ro points out.

"And there was horse-breeding, hawking -- no, she took that back because she was worried the birds would peck them to death -- and also dancing."

Yes, I can get nasty. I pull the rest of my pins out of my hair.

"And she did suggest that the one who kept dropping his sword become a chambermaid," 'Ro finishes.

OK, very nasty. But after I've had to deal with the same rude comments, bumbling attempts at swordfighting and crude pawing I've had to deal with for the past month, I get kinda evil. OK, very evil.

I unstrap my blades and lay them on the little table by the window. "I know I've been nasty. Hell, I've gone out of my way to be nasty. But so have they. You have to be rude and violent just to get their attention."

Elladan leans forward, wrapping his hands around a glass of wine. "We do not doubt your leadership, Kayli. You have done quite well for yourself. Eventually, the men will come to trust you, and learn to follow you."

I shrug. "Whatever you say, 'Dan."

I reach up and run my fingers over the chain around my neck.

"You miss him," Elladan says quietly. Yes, sometimes he actually has tact.

I smile slightly, toying with the rings. "More every day," I say softly. "The good thing about being out there and kicking ass is that for awhile, I don't think about him."

'Ro laughs. "He'd enjoy seeing it!"

I grin back. It's not much of a grin, but it's the best I can do right now. "Hell, I enjoy it."

Elladan stands up. "We'll see you at dinner, then?"

I nod. Elrohir walks over to me and lightly touches the chain around my neck. "You should accept his offer."

I stare at him blankly. "What offer?"

He just smiles that mysterious, grandson-of-Galadriel smile and walks away.

Have I mentioned that I hate Elves?

111

They still suck. Nothing has changed since yesterday. And the sad thing is they really ARE trying. But they have learned something else -- how to duck.

Tosun is facing me right now. His hands are shaking, and he can't seem to hold the sword still. Ye Gods, he's just a kid! If he has to shave, I'll eat your hat. But I bet he does -- twice a week, whether he needs it or not.

I sigh and stick my sword into the sand, falling into a crouch. I pick up a handful of sand and run it through my hands, rubbing it into my palms. Ever wonder why sometimes in movies, you see the warriors who use swords rubbing dirt into their hands? It's to dry them out, get rid of sweaty palms. It's a neat trick I picked up from Aragorn.

I sigh, stand, and pull my sword out of the ground. I wave it at the group of sweaty, exhausted Men around me. "Go home, boys. I think we've had enough for today."

They wander off, grumbling and sulking. Tosun, the one who keeps dropping his sword, just stays sitting in the dirt as they walk away. He picks up his sword, lifts it, then very deliberately drops it. He smiles at me wryly. "Figured I might as well do it on purpose."

I walk over and crouch in front of him. I stick my sword back in the sand and pick up a handful, rubbing it through my hands again. "Your palms sweat," I say quietly. "And make the hilt of your sword slippery and hard to hold onto." I drop the sand and dust off my hands. "Sand."

He stares at me blankly. "Sand?"

I nod and stand up. "Rub sand on your hands. It'll dry out your palms and make the hilt of your sword easier to grip." I pick my sword back up and start to walk away.

"My Lady?"

I turn back, casually turning the sword over in my hands. "Yeah?"

He pauses for a moment. "I had heard that you were truly fearsome, and this I have seen for myself. But...I never expected you to be kind."

I stare at him for a second. "How old are you, Tosun? The truth, not what you told the recruiters."

He blushes and stares at his boots. "Sixteen."

I sigh. "I was right."

"About what?"

"You don't shave."

He smiles a bit sheepishly. "I do too." He rubs one hand over his smooth cheek. "Twice a week."

I laugh. "Whether you need it or not."

He shrugs. "I keep hoping it'll make something grow." He looks up at me. "They're wrong about you. You are a good leader. And very kind."

I smile slightly and shrug. "Don't get used to it, Tosun. I'm usually a bitch." I stare at him for a second, watch as he picks the sand up and rubs it over his palms. "Do your best, Tosun. That's all I'll ever ask." I sheath my sword and start to walk away. "Of any of you."

TBC...


	50. Interlude Legolas

It's good to be back in Gondor. I have missed this place.

And, as Gimli must point out as often as he can, I have missed her. Who knew that two nights together would make me wish so desperately for her again?

I ride through the gates of Minas Tirith, Gimli complaining about my knives and Ginuviel and Tingalen riding with me. They are dear friends, but when they get on a subject, they will not leave it alone.

"You have told us nothing of her," Ginuviel protests. "How will we know how to act around her?"

Gimli laughs behind me. "Do and say whatever comes to yer mind," the Dwarf says. "Just as the lass will."

Tinalen sighs. "Can we at least know her name?"

"Kayli," I answer shortly.

"Easy to remember," Ginuviel mutters.

They continue to barrage me with questions as we ride into the city. I ignore them as we stable our horses and head for the palace.

"We'll know nothing of her," Tingalen whispers to her brother.

Gimli snorts. "Some things," he says softly, "You have to see to believe," and he gestures towards the training grounds. There is a circle of Men perched on the fence sorrounding it, most of them apparently deep in conversation. Gimli leads us over.

"I hear she's not married," one of the men says casually.

"No Man would have her," another says derisively.

The others laugh. "I think he's still sore about his broken nose."

Another laughs, a young man perched on gate. "Nay, I think he misses his teeth more!"

The man in question lightly touches his nose, which is most decidedly crooked. "I was justr trying to be friendly."

I see red for a moment. I must have moved, because Gimli has a firm grip on my arm. "Nay, laddie," he says softly.

The boy on the gate snickers again. "I don't think the Lady appreciated it," he says cheerfully. He's obviously enjoying the older Man's discomfort.

"No wonder she can't find a man, if that's how she reacts to a simple friendly gesture."

"That's not what I've heard," says another Man. "I hear she's awaiting an Elven Prince."

I ignore them and turn my gaze back to Kayli. She fights with a grace that she didn't have eight months ago when we left. Her blades are faster, and her feet are quicker to move than they were. She's lovely to watch. In one quick movement, she traps the man's sword between her blades and twists up and over, tearing it out of his hands and kicking it away. With a quick movement, she kicks his feet out from underneath him.

She backs away, blades still in hand, and lifts her head to survey her Men. "THIS is what I'm trying to salvage you from," she calls out to them. "From the belief that you're the best. That belief will keep you from seeking to hone your skills. That belief will make you comfortable, secure, in your own skills. That belief, that ARROGANCE, will kill you as surely as an enemy blade." She turns again, checking their faces. "You are not the best, gentlemen. There is always room for improvement. Always." She sighs and drops her blades. "Here endeth the lesson." And she walks off the feild.

Tingalen whistles quietly. "She's good."

Gimli grins. "There's a lass. Knew Aragorn would give her somethin' she was good at."

I jump lightly off the fence. The Men turn around and look, only noticing my presence when I move. The boy's eyes widen, and he nearly falls off the fence. Ginuviel tries not to laugh. "You'd think they'd never seen an Elf before," he whispers, and pulls his hood more firmly around his face.

I shrug him off and follow Kayli.

She's exactly where I thought she would be -- beating on a wall in the stables. I lean back against a stall until she finishes.

She takes a deep breath, then winces and cradles her hand. She turns around and nearly jumps out of her skin. "Fucking-A, are you trying to stop my heart?"

I smile at her. I've been away from her for too long, I'd almost forgotten what it is to just be near her. She's filthy, streaked with sweat and dust, her hair is tangled around her face, and I would swear before Eru himself nothing has ever looked more beautiful.

"You did well," I say instead.

She shrugs and makes a face. "It takes a ridiculous amount of effort just to get them to listen," she says softly. She starts to rub at her knuckles and winces.

I reach out and take her hand, investigating the damage she's done to her knuckles. It's fairly impressive. I raise her hand to my lips. "You need to be more careful, love."

She smiles slightly and tries to fix her hair with her free hand. "I must look like crap," she mutters, trying to fight it away from her face.

I smile. "You look beautiful."

She opens her mouth to protest, and I press a finger to her lips. "You're beautiful," I repeat, and lift my hand to trace the scar along her face.

She actually blushes, then smiles, leans forward, and kisses me.

This is what I had forgotten. Her passion, her fire. THIS is why I was so intrigued by her, why I love her now. I wrap my arms around her and hold her to me. As I will, for as long as I'm able.

TBC...


	51. History Lessons And Learning to Be Wise ...

It's been almost eight months. Eight months since I started training these lazy, lazy Men. Half of them had never picked up a sword in their lives. Now they're almost good.

Wanna hear something funny? Tosun -- that's the guy who could barely hold a sword when this started, and kept dropping it -- is my best now. He's not very good, but he's still my best. It's sort of sad.

I kick Bregil's sword out of his hands -- again -- but he actually remembers to leap back when I try to kick his feet out from underneath him. He CAN be taught!

He hooks one foot under his sword, trying to kick it back up into his hands, fumbles it, slices his palm, swears, and drops it. Whoever let this idiot have a double-edged sword should be put to a slow, painful death. He shouldn't even have a butter knife.

Although there were a couple of months where I insisted we use wooden swords. They did not take that very well, believe me. Men. If you take away their sharp toys, they pout like children.

I crouch down, sheathing my own sword, and gesture him down so I can take a look at his hand. Even if they're not learning anything, I am. Healing is a very useful talent with this bunch. I can stitch cuts like a pro. At least none of my patients ever look like Frankenstein's monster.

Bregil glances over my shoulder and swears. "Nothing is better than humiliation except humilation with an audience," he mutters.

I hold very still for a long second, then focus on his hand. Yes, I know who's here. I can hear Gimli muttering complaints about Legolas's knives poking him the whole way from the Lonely Mountain. Even if he wasn't talking, I've got the same skin-crawly, stomach-clenching feeling I get whenever Legolas is close. Yes, I am pathetic.

I pull a strip of linen from the pouch at my waist -- yes, I DO carry bandages with me -- and wrap it around his hand. "You'll live," I say. "Keep it clean."

Bregil gives a small, ironic smile. "I know by now, my Lady."

I rise to my feet and stretch my back, then shoot a quick glance at the sun. It's starting to set. We've been out here since dawn. I think it's time to go in. I touch Bregil's shoulder. "Go home. We're done for today." He nods gratefully, but pauses before he walks away. "My wife sends her greetings, my Lady. She thanks you for your help with the baby."

I smile. Bregil's an ass, but his wife is actually very sweet. "Tell her she's welcome, and to send for me if there's any trouble."

He bows quickly and hurries away.

With all that's been happening since Legolas's return -- the plans for establishing the colony in Southern Ithilien, the return of Eowyn and her brother, the wedding preparation, everything else -- we really haven't had time to talk. Not that I've been avoiding him, or anything. At least not sincerely attempting it, but if it so happened that I didn't see him, I might have taken steps to continue that. Little steps.

Really.

Gimli claps Legolas on the back as I work my very slow way over to the fence. The female Elf he came in with grins at him quickly and hurries off. No, I don't know who she is. Yes, I am jealous. Shut up.

"Hey."

He glances at me. He has his hair loose, and he's dressed like he's been avoiding anything even remotely like civilization. "Hello." He tilts his head at me and studies me. I know I look like crap. I don't need that look to tell me that. I need to have a bath and fresh clothes before I'll even FEEL human again. "You've been avoiding me," he says softly, and he won't meet my eyes.

Oh, dammit. Now look at what you did, Kayli. You went and hurt his feelings. Why does he have to be so...so...damn cute? Argh. This love stuff turns your brains to mush.

And I don't even have a good excuse for what I've been doing, except that I don't know what I'm doing.

I boost myself up on the fence next to him and stare at my boots. "Not exactly," I say lamely. "I mean, I haven't been...going out of my way to not see you. I've just been..." I shrug.

"Not being where you know I'll be?"

"Right."

"And that's not avoiding me?"

I smile slightly. "Yeah, I guess it is." I roll my shoulders and try and restore some semblence of sanity to my hair. "I'm sorry. I don't know what I've been doing. Hell, maybe I am -- was -- avoiding you. I don't know what to say to you. And --" I glance back over my shoulder. "Who the hell is she?"

He stares at me blankly for a second. "Who?" he follows my gaze. "Tingalen? She's Ginuviel's sister. A friend since we were young." He turns and looks at me, then smiles. I hate it when he does that. It lights up his whole face. "Were you jealous?"

I lift my chin. I am NOT going to spend this conversation staring at the ground. "Maybe."

He laughs at that, outright laughs, and kisses me. I almost fall off the fence. He needs to not do that when I'm not prepare. I do stupid stuff like trip over my own feet and make these pathetic lovelorn sighing noises. It's embarassing. "You have nothing to fear from her, melisse. She is my friend, nothing more."

I narrow my eyes at him. "I didn't know that."

Legolas takes my face in his hand and looks me in the eye. "You should have," he says firmly. "Do you not trust me, Kayli?"

I lean forward and kiss him. "Yes. No. I don't know. You have too much of me for me to trust you entirely." I look out over the practice field. "I've had my heart broken. It's not a fun experience, and I'm not out to do it again."

He smooths my hair back. Sure, it does it for him. "I cannot promise that I won't hurt you," he says, "but I can promise that I will try not to."

I smile at him. Honestly, I think that's the most honest thing anyone's ever said to me. "I can live with that."

111

"You still have not answered my question," he says, several hours later. We're sprawled out on my bed, playing a game.

...A card game, you freaks. Get your minds out of the gutter.

I stare a little too intently at the cards in my hand. "I know."

"Will you?"

I sigh and play one of them. "Yeah."

He arches a brow at me. I wish I could do that. Elves must have different facial muscles than humans. Like...Vulcans, or something. "Asnwer my question, or marry me?"

I shrug and play a card. "Both."

You know, it's not often you see an Elf shocked into silence. Seriously. Well, I imagine I see it more often than most people would, since I have this occasionally embarrassing tendency to say what I'm thinking, but they usually recover faster than he is.

"Did you just say yes?" he asks about five minutes later.

I turn the page in my book and don't look up. "Yeah."

There's another long moment of silence. He doesn't look shocked so much as thoughtful now. "I must speak with Boromir," he muses.

Now I look up. And frown. What the hell does Big Brother have to do with this? "Why?"

He shrugs. "I must ask his blessing, Kayli."

OK, I still don't get it. "You haven't already? I mean...aren't you supposed to do that before you ask a lady to marry you?"

He shrugs and picks his cards back up. "It seemed pointless. No one controls your actions but you, as you have proved before. Why ask him if I knew you wouldn't have me?"

I mark my place in my book and tuck my legs underneath me. "This isn't going to be easy," I mutter. I'm playing with the chain aroud my neck. Like I always do when I'm thinking. You've probably noticed by now. "I'm having a hard enough time getting the Men to trust me without suddenly up and getting hitched."

Legolas laughs suddenly. "I overheard some of the things they say about you the day I returned. They fear you more than respect you, at the moment. DId you really break the one Man's nose?"

I frown at that. Honestly, I've broken a couple of noses. Also three arms, a shinbone, two jaws and countless fingers. But they're learning. It's a sad day when learning has to be through pain. "You mean Kristo?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "I know not. He tried to defend himself against the others. Something about how he was just trying to be friendly."

I shake my head. "No, that's, uh, Fred...something. Let's just say that he and I have two entirely different ideas of friendly." I frown suddenly. Hoo boy. "You didn't hurt him, did you?"

He smiles slightly and traces the scar on my face. "Fear not, love. Gimli restrained me."

I grin. "I love that Dwarf."

Another arched brow. "Should I be worried?"

I can almost feel the smirk on my face. "Well, he is very...magnetic."

Legolas laughs and takes my hand. "Now that I would never live down," he says. He pulls me down to him, so that I'm laying on our game.

I snuggle my head into his chest and sigh. "Iariel's in love with Brioc," I inform him. "And Boromir's avoiding Edana like the plague."

The Elf starts to pull my pins out of my hair. See? Elves and hair. "I had noticed he tends to look at Lady Edana with fear in his eyes."

I giggle. "She'll get him. I am going to laugh so hard when she does." I rest my chin on my arms so I can look at his face. "Now I know how Arwen and Eowyn feel," I muse. "They're happy, so they want to see everybody else happy."

He lightly runs his fingers over my face. "Are you happy?"

"Yes." I lay my head back down. "I'm very happy."

His arms tighten around me. "Good."

111

Wanna hear something funny? Well, it's not really funny, but it is interesting.

I've been researching. About Elven marriage customs. Yes, I am researching about my fiancee...future husband...whatever he is, I'm researching about it. Shut up.

Did you know, that once two Elves bond, that bond is unbreakable, even by death? It all goes with the theory that even if their bonded one dies, they'll see them again, either in the Halls of Mandos or when that person is reborn in Valinor. Of course, they're aren't many who HAVE been reborn that are recorded. The only record I can find is of one Elf who died in Gondolin and was reborn in Arda.

Glorfindel. Yes, that Glorfindel. It's the same Glorfindel. Glorfindel of Gondolin -- now Glorfindel of Imladris -- fell while fighting one of the Balrogs that destroyed Gondolin. His death allowed Earendil to escape with his mother -- that's Elrond's father, in case you didn't know -- and apparantly Mandos -- the Vala who runs things in the Halls of Mandos, also known as Namo -- was so impressed with his strength and valor that he decided to allow Glorfindel to return to Arda, once more to serve the line or Earendil. It's all very interesting.

But so not the point. I'm sure you all enjoyed the history lesson, but it does have a point that has to do with me. And him. The point is, an Elven marriage bond is completely unbreakable. Even if one of them dies, their mate/bonded one/husband/wife/beloved/whatever, can't remarry. Why? Because, technically, they're still married.

See, that's the part I'm really not digging. I'm mortal, as in not going to live forever. But he will.. And, in case you hadn't guessed by this little spiel, he wants an Elven bonding ritual. So, the gist of it is, I'm going to die, and he's going to be stuck with that forever. Unless I'm reading into it wrong. It's not like there's a lot of precedent, either. Aragorn and Arwen don't count, because when Aragorn dies, so will Arwen. In effect, it's his death that will kill her, as he's the only thing binding her to Middle-Earth. The only other Man/Elf bonding thing I can find is Beren and Luthien, and we all know how THAT ended.

I make a disgusted noise and chuck the book across the table. It goes sliding off the other side and hits the floor with a THWAP!

"Dare I ask what you're doing?" Aragorns asks, and I nearly jump out of my skin.

OK, sneaky Elf-trained Man person, don't do that. I swear at him. "Don't DO that," I snap. "You scared the crap out of me."

He sends me an amused look and bends to pick up the book. "Ah," he murmurs, flipping through the pages. For a moment, he looks very sad. Then he glances up at me and smirks. "Accepted, did you?"

I roll my eyes. "Did everybody know?"

My King slips into the chair across from me. "Yes," he replies easily. "You two may think you're being subtle, but you're really not. And Boromir's shouting woke half the palace."

I reach up and play with the chain around my neck. I can absolutely NOT hold my hands still for an extended period of time. "Figures," I mutter, and give the book a nasty glare, like it's all the poor books fault.

"You can not find what you seek in books," Aragorn says firmly. "Perhaps you should ask him."

I frown. "Well, sure, if you wanted to do it the easy way," I mutter. "How do I bring this up, Aragorn?" I pick up the book and wave it under his nose. "Hey, honey, I was doing some research on Elves, and did you know that according to said research, when I keel, you won't be able to remarry?" I slam the book back down. "Yeah, that'll work."

He's laughing at me. Not out loud, he's too polite for that, but I can see it in his eyes. And the red shade his face is turning from trying NOT to laugh out loud. "Well, I wouldn't use those exact words," he says finally, once he's curbed the impulse to giggle. Yes, I know Aragorn doesn't giggle. Drop it.

I frown harder. "I KNEW this was a bad idea," I say darkly. "I knew it."

Aragorn sighs. He's getting exasperated. "Love is never a bad idea," he says, going into King-of-Men-and-don't-you-forget-it mode. "Would you truly pass up what you have with him, in exchange for his POSSIBLE future happiness?"

I make a face at him. "It's all so weird," I answer. "I mean, we don't even KNOW what's going to happen when we bond...or marry, or whatever. I mean, it could happen that way, right?"

He nods slowly. "Kayli, I fear that you and Legolas...already ARE bonded."

I stare at him for a second. OK, now I'm confused. "Huh?"

He leans forward and looks at me intently. I hate it when he does that. Makes me feel clear. Like glass. Really clear, just-been-cleaned glass. "Do you know what truly bonds two Elves, who have pledged their hearts to one another?"

I shake my head, and he continues. "It is not the ritual, no matter what your reading may have told you. It is the..." He's searching for the right word. I think I know what he's getting at. "The consummation of that love."

Oh. That. I can feel myself blushing, and I duck my head. "Oh," I mutter.

"As I told you," he says genlty, "Boromir's shouting woke half the palace."

I laugh slightly. "I'm gonna kill him," I mutter.

Aragorn stands and reaches out to touch my shoulder. "Take this, Kayli," he says softly. "Legolas is one of the truest, most loyal people I have ever known, and he loves you." He gestures at the book again. "Even if it does come to pass that the two of you are bonded for eternity, even past your death, I do not think that it will make much difference. I truly do not think that he would find another he would love as he loves you."

I smile slightly, then stand up and hug him tightly. "Thank you," I whisper. I pull back and blink quickly. I have something in my eye, dammit. "How did you get so wise?"

Aragorn's smile turns a bit ironic. "I grew up in the House of Elrond. You want to be wise, live with him."

111

Anywho.

Becca --FFN sucks ass. Thanks! You're awesome!

Sylvia Viridian -- Believe me, she's trying. Thanks!

CHEESECAKE -- Thanks!

Ming Bubble -- Oh, that's all right. Thanks again!

essence of popsicles -- Who doesn't love the Hobbits? Thanks!

Auburn Arafura -- I had to rearrange like all the chapters just to get one to work. It really, really sucked. Thanks for your patience.

Slayer -- Yes, that was from Buffy. Spike, right? I'm shameless. Good eye!

Destiny Goddess -- I swear, this flippin' thing doesn't even HAVE spellcheck. I try to read over all the chaps before I post 'em, but I guess I missed some stuff. Sorry. Thanks again!

chelsey-pudge -- Thanks!

Andrew Joshua Talon --- Honestly, I think I might have another use for you...Tell me, what are your views on reincarnation? (Yes, that is a serious question. My doctor says you should humor me.)

Iariel -- Don't worry, you'll get your Gondorrian. Kayli might have to do some pushing, but we all know how good she is at that. Hey, I've missed you too! Yes, Edana is another reader-insert. Just so you know, Brioc can be kinda thick-skulled. Thanks! And welcome back!

Laer4572 -- Well, I think it's pretty sure by now that Kayli is NOT your typical female. Thanks again!

halfblood princess & Summer -- Thank you! I was worried about that...

Crecy -- She HAS gotten better, they'd better watch out now...Heh. Thanks!

Did I miss anybody? If so, I'm sorry. It's hard to keep it all straight, what with the chapters all funky. Don't worry, you're awesome too! Thank you, everybody!


	52. Escapes

You know, it's not often that I get actually, out-and-out, full-throttle, run-for-your-lives pissed. I can get irritated, upset, angry, and annoyed.

However, none of these phrases fully describes what I'm feeling right now. I think 'rage' might actually be closer.

"What the hell do you mean, SHE'S GONE?"

The poor guard in front of me flinches, but stands his ground. He seems to be taking some comfort in the fact that I am, apparently, being forcibly restrained. Remind me to thank Gimli. I might have felt bad for throttling the schmuck later, but that wouldn't have made him any less unconcious. Or maybe dead.

In case you haven't guessed, this morning, when they pulled the guard change, Leilanni was gone. POOF! It's magic! How do you just up and LOSE a prisoner? Seriously.

"I don't know why, my Lady," the guard repeats. "All I know is that when we came on duty, she was gone, and I had not herad that King Elessar had authorized such a thing."

Well, that's because King Elessar isn't on CRACK.

"Kayli," said King says firmly, "calm yourself. Your rage solves nothing." See? I told you it was closer. Elessar turns his intense gaze on the guard, who looks more scared now than he did when I was shrieking like a harpy right in his face. "Where are the guards who were on duty over the night?"

"I can find them, my Lord," he says quickly.

Aragorn nods, and the guard bolts for the door. Gimli very carefully releases my arm. "Ye all right, lass?"

"No," I answer, and try to unscrew my jaw. "I am most definitely not all right. Leilanni wants my head on a platter, remember?"

Gimli frowns. "Is there some way we can get word to the Elf?" he asks.

I resist the urge to hit myself in the head. Legolas. Of course. He's in Ithilien, as in not in Minas Tirith where we can keep an eye on him.

"We can send a rider, Lord Gimli," Tuson suggests from his place by the door. He glances at Elessar. "My King, should we? Is this...creature not after Prince Legolas?"

Elessar rubs his forehead and sighs. "Yes. See to it, Tosun."

Tosun bows and runs. He looks so proud of himself for having made a useful suggestion. I sigh and crack my neck. Elessar frowns at me. "Don't do that, Kayli."

"Yes, my Lord," I say automatically, then go and sit next to the throne on the stairs. "What do you want us to do, Elessar?"

He sighs and leans his head back on the throne. "At the moment? We watch, and we wait. We shall send word to Legolas, and if I know Ginuviel and Tingalen, they'll have their Prince under lock and key within moments."

Good for them. If he's locked up with a guard at every exit, he can't get hurt. He may go crazy, though, so we need to find her fast.

The guard enters the room again, two more men with him. They look extremely confused. I have a feeling the other guy didn't make too much sense when he explained the situation. There was probably a great deal of babbling. And maybe some stuttering.

They all bow, and the messenger takes up position next to Tosun.

"Would you care to tell me why the prisoner was released?" Aragorn asks calmly. Hey, somebody has to be sane around here. Ain't gonna be me.

The guards exchange confused glances. "We were told that you had ordered it, your Majesty."

Elessar's eyes narrow. "Told by whom?"

"Lord Denethor, you Majesty," the one on the right says, still looking confused.

I hiss through my teeth. Boromir attempts to pick his jaw up off the floor. Even Elessar looks kind of surprised. "Father?" Boromir says.

"I knew he was crazy," Brioc mutters.

Iariel, who is actually required by custom to 'attend' me at all times when not doing 'Manly' things, suddenly blushes and ducks her head. Brioc sends her a confused glance. It's like a freaking soap opera.

I roll my shoulders in an attempt to loosen some of the tension. "O-Kay. Now what?"

"Find Lord Denethor," Elessar snaps at Boromir. Big Brother bows and hurries out of the room.

This day is going to suck. This day? Hell, this week.

1111

I was so right. This week has been terrible.

We've practically ripped apart all of Minas Tirith. Seriously. Denethor's clammed up, saying that he didn't even know we HAD a prisoner. If the guards hadn't seen him, I'd almost believe it. Hell, I'd forgotten about her for the past, oh, eight or nine months.

And can I just say that summer in Minas Tirith SUCKS? It is incredibly humid here. The air is practically dripping, and I feel completely disgusting. Uck. No wonder Aragorn didn't want to be King of this place. It's the humidity, I swear.

Arwen, however, is positively glowing, all serene and beautiful and not turning a hair over the fact that it's about ninety degrees with a hundred percent humidity. Eowyn and I look like we're about to die, and the boys don't look much better. Do you know how heavy velvet gowns are? Bleck.

I lift my hair off my neck and try to find a breeze. Not that there is a breeze, but I enjoy wishful thinking, don't you? Next to me, Tosun looked ready to faint, and on my other side, Bregil was in the process of removing his tunic. Most of my Men were running around stripped to the waist. They're allowed to do that, since we're combing the grounds and the feilds and we're not where young impressionable ladies might have a case of vapors. Hey, I'm not complaining. I'm engaged, not dead.

Yeah, I guess it's official. There's a ring on my finger, anyway. The rings Galadriel gave us, they fit like they were made for us. Hell, maybe they were. Which means since they chain was gone, I'd had to acquire a new nervous habit. I twist the ring around my finger.

Brioc hops down next to me and mops his face with the sleeve. Of course, he's not running around half-naked. He's a Captain, you know. "Nothing, Kayli. Not a damn sign of her. Not out here, not in the city, not in the palace, not on the palace grounds. Nothing."

I shake my head and pull back my hair. "All righty then. What now?"

Brioc shrugs. "You're asking me?"

I thorw up my arms. "Like I know what to do?"

He frowns at me. I frown back and call my Men back around. "All right, boys, let's go. Back to Minas Tirith."

There's a great deal of grumbling, but surprisingly little of it is about taking orders from a woman. Most of it is about the heat. Apparently, this summer is warmer than usual. Well, that's a relief. At least I won't have to be this toasty every summer for the rest of my life.

"What now, m'lady?" Kristo asks.

I shrug. "I'll report to Elessar. Don't go far, he may have something else for us to do."

Kristo bows quickly and nods to Tosun. The two of them get the men into some sort of order and haul them off towards the training grounds. Brioc and I head for the palace.

"Kayli?" Brioc says, when we're climbing the stairs. Why do their have to be so many stairs? Can't they at least wait until we're inside something before they have so many stairs?

"Yeah?" I ask, trying -- and mostly failing -- to pin my hair back up on my head.

"What is wrong with your maid?"

I frown. "Iariel? What do you mean? She seems fine to me?"

He shakes his head slowly. "I swear, every time I see her, she's dropping something or blushing." He glances at me. "Does she not do these things around others? She seems very clumsy."

I giggle. "Just around you, honeychild."

He stares at me, obviously confused. I shake my head slowly. "Never mind."

He opens his mouth to say something, then stops and touches my arm, nodding towards some hooded people entering the palace. Elves. Elves are the only people who walk through Minas Tirith cloaked and hooded.In high fucking summer.

Make that about four Elves. And a Dwarf. I grin. Next to me, Brioc rolls his eyes.

Up ahead, one of the Elves elbows another one. Said Elf glances back, then pushes back his hood. Haldir. He bows ironically. "My Lady."

I stick my tongue out at him. "Hi, Hal." I glance at his companions. Ginuvial, Tingalen, and Legolas, leaning against the door, speaking quietly to Gimli.

Hal makes a face at me. "Why do you keep metal in your mouth?"

I shrug. Togue rings are considered an oddity in Middle-Earth. Just one more thing about me that's weird. Ginuviel is currently looking at me like I sprouted another head.

'Lost a prisoner, I hear," Hal says conversationally, falling into step beside me.

"At least I didn't lose my clothes," I snap back. He smirks at me, and can I just say this makes me nervous. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Your Prince had his Adar ask my Lord for my assistance," he replies. And yes, it takes me a second to work out just who did what. My brain is melting. It's the humidity, like I said.

"Ah."

Hal's face turns serious. You know, if you look past that nose, he isn't bad looking. I have been around way to many guys today. My hormones are on a kick. It's like a sugar high, but chocolate is better.

I miss chocolate. I really, really miss chocolate. There are a few more things that I miss almost as much. But I really, really miss chocolate.

"We must find her quickly," he says. "She feels like the rejected woman, and she will seek revenge."

I smirk at him. "We?"

He frowns at that. He looks a little sulky. "King Thranduil said that if anything happened to his son, he'd take it up with me personally. I actually felt very threatened."

I nod. "Oh, yeah." Threats from Thranduil? Have I mentioned that he's very scary?

"Where have you looked?"

I make a disgusted noise. "Everywhere. The palace, the grounds, the city, the feilds...She could be all the way to Rohan by now."

"Would she return to Lorien, do you believe?" Hal asks as we go through the main entrance.

I shake my head. "Galadriel scared the crap out of both of them. And I think we all know what your Lord would do to her if he found her in his lands again."

Hal smiles. It is not a pleasant smile. "Yes, I think we're aware. What next?"

"That's what I'm going to ask Aragorn. He is the King, after all."

Speaking of his Majesty, Aragorn and Arwen are wandering down the stairs, arm in arm and looking disgustingly cuddly. Aragorn looks at us, and BOOM! Just like that, he's all Kingly. It's looks like a mild, benign version of schizophrenia. Seriously. He goes from Aragorn to Elessar just like that. If I didn't know better, I'd swear they were two different people. "What news?"

I bow. "Nothing. Not a sign of her."

Arwen sighs. "She did not seem so clever."

I swear as the pins start to fall out of my hair. "She's NOT. I don't get it, she's just up and fucking vanished. It should be impossible."

"She could be on her way anywhere," Ginuviel says. "Rohan, Lorien, Lasgalen."

I shake my head. "Rohan's a maybe, but she wouldn't dare set a freaking foot in Lorien OR Lasgalen. Lord Celeborn would have her shot on sight, and King Thranduil would probably wait only so he could kill her himself."

Tingalen giggles. "How well she knows his Majesty."

Elessar slowly shakes his head. "Nor would she think to flee to Rohan. Everything she desires is in Gondor." He sends a pointed glance at Legolas.

Goldilocks makes a face. "Why me?"

"That's what you get for being pretty," I tell him, and smirk.

"We found nothing in Ithilien to suggest she'd been there," Ginuviel says, obviously trying to cut us off before we get way, way off topic.

"So we've gotten nowhere," Gimli says.

I sigh. "What do you want us to do, Elessar?"

"We wait," his Majesty says shortly. "Legolas, I would appreciate it if you would remain in Minas Tirith. I doubt she has gone far, and if you are here, it means she will not think to."

"You want to use our Prince as BAIT?" Ginuviel demands, looking scandalized.

"It's a good plan," I say.

Ginuviel has to stop and pick his jaw up off the floor. He turns and stares at Legolas. "You want to MARRY her?"

"Hey!"

Legolas just shakes his head and ignores us. "If anything happens to me, it's up to them to tell my father," he muses.

"Then let's make sure nothing happens to ye," Gimli mutters. "I'm starving. Haven't had anything but Elvish fare all day."

111

The party dispersed with that. Gimli and the Elves headed for the kitchens, Aragorn and Arwen went about...whatever it was they'd been doing, and I sent word to my Men to go home, then went up to my room to relax a little before heading back down to see what the hell it was we were gonna do now.

At the moment, however, I am perched on my dresser, watching a spider the size of my fucking FIST crawl across my bedroom floor.

I hate spiders. HATE THEM. Hate, hate, hate. More than I hate caves. Or heights.

Haldir is one dead Elf. When I get my hands on him, they are going to be finding his body for WEEKS.

And can I just say how hard it is to find anything in a drawer when you're hanging upside down to look and trying to keep an eye on a spider at the same time? Let's just say it ain't easy. That's what I get for putting away my knives, I guess. I didn't know I'd have to be armed in my own ROOM.

Iariel pokes her head in the door, frowns, looks around, then catches sight of me, and looks completely shocked. "My Lady, what ARE you doing?" THEN she sees the spider, and screams holy bloody murder.

Ouch.

"Iariel!" Nothing. "Iariel, shut UP!"

My maid claps both hands over her mouth. A-HA! Knives! I work one out of the scabbard and then the drawer, take aim, throw...and MISS. My aim sucks. I pull the drawer out further, grab another one, and throw, and pin the damn thing right to the floor, where it lays there and twitches.

Just that moment, our Heroes--Boromir, Faramir, Brioc, and Eowyn -- appear in the door, armed with various odds and ends. Boromir and Faramir have the pokers from the fireplaces in their rooms, Eowyn has a candlestick, and Brioc has a knife. Anybody else feel like they're playing Clue? I think it was Mrs. White, in the bedroom, with the candlestick.

I think of the strangest things.

Iariel is just staring at it, like she's never even seen a spider before. Well, I've seen spiders, but never one this big, 'cause, y'all, that is a big freakin' spider. Iariel shudders and quickly turns her back, bumping nose first right into Brioc's chest. She blushes, studders, half-turns, catches sight of the spider again, and quickly turns back around and buries her face in his shoulder, completely forgetting her embarassment. He looks startled for a moment, then a look comes over his face. You know, one of those clipped-by-Sam's-frying-pan-of-DOOM looks. He wraps his arms around her and starts soothingly rubbing her back.

This love stuff? It's freaking contagious. If I have to see ONE MORE happy couple, they're going to have to find me a padded room where I have to write home in Crayolas because I'm not allowed anything sharp.

Faramir leans on his poker. "Dare I ask?"

I smile. "Haldir," I answer. It comes out a little muffled because my teeth are clenched.

Boromir twirls his own poker over his shoulder. "Thoughts of vengeance already, dear sister?"

Oh, yeah. Big Brother has no idea. I manage to get down from the dresser, only knocking three or four things on the floor. But hey, none of them break. I pull the rest of the pins out of my hair and keep smiling. "Oh, yes, darling brother," I reply. "I'm gonna wash up and change. Can someone sit Iariel down and get her water or something?"

Brioc nods and leads her out of the room, his arm around her shoulder. Boromir smiles slightly. "Don't do anything TOO horrible," he says, and drags Faramir out of the room.

111

Guess what I get to do? Tonight we have another formal thing, celebrating the fact that Faramir and Eowyn are getting married tomorrow. Then tomorrow we have another formal thing, celebrating the fact that Faramir and Eowyn are married. It's sort of redundant. But it's cool, because I have a KILLER dress for tonight. It's dark blue, and it can hide a blade. Score!

And I have also found a group of Elves. In the gardens, naturally. I can hear Legolas's voice, and Hal's. Legolas sounds half-annoyed, and half-resigned. "Tell me you didn't."

"Surely this Lady of yours isn't afraid of spiders," says another voice, one I don't know.

"Afraid might not be the right word. 'Petrified' might actually be closer," Legolas replies.

The strange Elf laughs. I can see them now. He has long dark hair and bright green eyes, just like Thranduil's. Another son. Holy crap, how many does he have?

"Good evening, gentlemen," I say, and lean against a tree, knive in my hand, spider still on the blade. The new Elf grimaces. Legolas sighs. Hal smirks. The Twins look amused.

"Why, good day, Kayli," Hal says cheerfully. Well, as cheerful as Hal ever gets. He can be amused, sarcastic, snide, annoying, irriated, and enraged, but he really doesn't do cheerful. "What have you there?"

I walk -- OK, maybe stalk, or storm -- over to him, and hold the knive up in front of his face. "Friend of yours?"

He cocks an eyebrow at me, that annoying freaking habit all Elves have. "Why, no. Wherever did you find that?"

I bare my teeth at him. "In my room, Hal." I wipe the blade off on his tunic. "Why do you do this, Hal? Do you ENJOY public nudity?"

The strange Elf looks at Legolas, who shakes his head. "Long story," he mutters. "I'll tell you later."

"I hear it was funny," 'Dan says cheerfully. He DOES do cheerful. Usually in an amused way, at someone else's expense.

"It was freaking hilarious," I reply. I shake the blade in Hal's face. "I'm gonna get you for this, Haldir. If it's the last damn thing I do."

He smirks at me, flicking the remains of the spider off the sleeve of his tunic. "Oh, I'm quivering," he says sarcastically.

I laugh and shake my head. I drop the blade into the sheath down my back. Have I mentioned I LOVE this dress? "See if I don't," I say, and then give him a big, sloppy kiss on the cheek. "Enjoy the peace, Hal. It won't last."

TBC...

My sincerest thanks to everyone who reviewed. Am too lazy to look them up right now. As it's six o'clock in the morning, and it sucks that I can'tsleep, so this once I'm gonna do the skipping thing, OK? Just thing once. Please forgive me, and I love you all.

Besides, I'm working on planning the sequel. Does that make it better?


	53. Deja Vu

I love parties. Love them so much. Yes, that was a bit heavy on the sarcasm, but that's OK, right? If I have to dance with one more complete flickin' stranger, I'm going to lose what little mind I had to begin with.

Not that most of them are too bad. Imrahil of Dol Amroth -- father of that Lothiriel chick, the one Eomer's stuck on -- is very sweet, and hilarious. The other one's I couldn't tell you their names. I had to dance with Eomer, who kept stepping on my toes because he was gawping at Lothiriel. I had to dance with Elladan, which was horrible, because he kept making me laugh and forget the steps. I had to dance with Haldir, which was just above and beyond the call of duty, I think. There was also Faramir, who kept stepping on my toes because he was gawping at Eowyn -- who really does look beautiful, wearing white, like she always does -- and Boromir, who was ALSO stepping on my toes, because HE -- yeah, you guess it, was gawping at Edana.

This has not been a fun evening.

Yeah, by the way, this brother of Legolas's? Derinsul. Took me five tries to get the pronunciation right. It's a freaking odd name. The other two -- the ones who were here before -- are Eriadhras -- couldn't say that if I wanted to -- and Jadriel. Why am I telling you this, you may ask? Hey, a girl's gotta know her in-laws.

But, anywho, back to the party. I haven't been able to find a corner to hide in, somebody -- usually one of my brothers, or the twins, or Legolas -- catches me before I can get away and introduces me to more people. I force a smile, make polite small talk, and wonder when the hell this is going to be over.

During a break in conversation -- the first one we've had all damn night -- Legolas slips up behind me, deposits a wine glass in one of my hands and takes the other one. "Smile, love, it'll be done with soon enough."

"I am smiling," I say softly. And I am. It's a forced smile, but it's a smile. Also, I'm pretty sure my face is stuck this way.

He laughs slightly, leans over, and kisses my cheek. "That doesn't look like a smile, love."

I shrug and attempt to make my face return to some semblence of normality. "Best I can do." I finally glimpse a secluded corner and duck into it, dragging him with me. "I hate this," I mutter, and sincerely attempt to hide myself from everyone's view, using Legolas's body -- I'm so glad he's taller than me -- and also his robes. I like Elven robes. Two people fit. To hide in. Pervs.

I yawn and close my eyes, resting against him for a moment. He tucks some of my hair behind my ears. "You're exhausted, Kayli. You should go to bed."

I nod. "Yeah." I step away, fighting with my hair. Again. "Will you tell the lovebirds I bailed?"

He pauses for a second, just blinking at me. He's trying to figure out what I just said. It's ok. I have a tendency to confuse Middle-Earthians with my modern Earth slang. It's all good. "Yes," he says, and kisses my forehead. "Good night."

111

I am never going to be in another wedding again. NEVER. Well, just one, obviously. It's not like I can have a stand-in for my own, right?

Faramir and Eowyn look so happy together, it's making me nauseous. Aragorn is marrying them, seeing as how he's King and all, and Boromir and Brioc are standing with Faramir, leaving me and Edana with Eowyn.

And as happy as Faramir and Eowyn look, Edana looks absolutely miserable. Her eyes are all red and puffy from crying, and so is her face. There are some things not even makeup can repair. Boromir is very firmly not looking at her, and come to think of it, he doesn't look really all that happy either, even though I know he's thrilled for Faramir.

Speaking of happy, Eomer and Lothiriel are disgustingly cuddly. Well, as cuddly as they can be with Prince Imrahil glaring over his shoulder. At least somebody's got it going right. Well, actually, everybody does, with the exception of Boromir and Edana. Even I have my love life sorted out, which is sad. Very, very sad.

Faramir and Eowyn kiss, and I start counting down the minutes until I can take off these damn shoes. Another thing to add to my 'dislikes' list, which is growing by the...minute.

Once more, we start the parade down the aisle. Legolas slips into place next to me. "You're not smiling," he says, and he's laughing at me. Not out loud, but I can all but freaking hear it.

"I hate weddings," I mutter through clenched teeth and forced, plastic smile. "Hate them. Never going to be in another one again."

He looks at me for a moment, an amused look on his face. "Really?" he says lightly. "That should be interesting."

I make a face at him. "Yeah, yeah. Other than that one."

We make it back inside, and I am so relieved to be in the shade. It just figures that today would be even hotter than the past week, and all of us out there in heavy formal robes and gowns. It's times like this I find myself wishing that Elves felt the heat the way humans do. Just so they could suffer right along with us.

Legolas leans over and whispers in my ear. "You look awful."

I glare at him. "Oh, thank you." I aim an elbow backwards, but he's fast. Sneaky bastard. I didn't even see him move.

He steps back up next to me and slips an arm around my waist. One of the ladies of the court gives me a nasty look. I glare right back. I am SO not in the mood for the petty jealousies of the vapid palace decorations.

Ack. Is it just me, or has the heat made me really nasty? Yeah, I had a feeling it wasn't just me. Too much to ask for, I guess. I shake my head and tug away from Legolas. "I need to go lay down for a while. I'll be back downstairs in time for the ball."

I walk away, leaving him staring after me.

111

OK, we all know I'm in love with Legolas? We've covered this, right?

And we all ALSO know that having someone with me constantly, looking over my shoulder and holding my hand, will tend to make me slightly irritated. If not out right piss me off.

But see, what he's doing is something in between. He's trying to be a husband. I know we're not married yet, but the theory applies. He's doing his best. And I'm not making any damn effort. Why?

I don't know how. My own inadequacies tend to bother me. In case you hadn't noticed.

I quietly shut the door to my room, then sigh and close my eyes. I am so damn tired. This constantly strong, can-handle-herself female image wears on you more than you'd think. I would like nothing better than to just collapse and let someone else take care of everything. Take care of my Men, take care of Iariel's betrothal arrangements -- I can see it coming, somebody has to take care of it -- take care of my brothers when they need it -- OK, just Boromir now, Faramir has Eowyn, but still -- take care of beating some sense into Boromir about Edana -- then I won't have to take care of him either, huzzah! -- my own marriage, everything. All of it.

What's really hard to accept is that there really is someone there to do it.

Ugh. Check out the headache, y'all. This sucks.

I start to pull the pins out of my hair, glancing casually around the room. Nothing's changed since this morning, really. Everything looks so normal that I look right past Leilanni.

The first time.

Oh, shit. This can not end well.

I don't move my eyes from her, once I actually see her. She's wearing one of my dresses -- prison issue obviously didn't agree with her -- and going through my jewelry. Most of it is random stuff I don't care about, but my rings are in there. If she touches them, there will not be a hole deep enough for her to hide in.

"Hello, Kayli," she says sweetly. "I've missed you."

"The feeling's mutual," I snap back. "I've missed having your head on a pike on my freaking balcony."

No, I don't have a balcony. It's the thought that counts, right?

She turns to look at me and smiles slowly, which worries me. Something is very not right here. Hugely not right. So hugely not right, so obvious, that I'm looking right past it and I can't SEE it.

Ugh. Ugh, ugh, ugh.

She slips a knife from somewhere in her skirts and throws it. I move, but not fast enough. It buries in my shoulder, and I cry out.

I stumble slightly, wince, and pull out the knife. There's something black mingled with the red on the blade.

Poison. I detest a poisoner. They should all be hung or beheaded, just on principal.

The room starts to get a wee bit unsteady, like it did when I was drunk, only far less pleasant. I grit my teeth and manage to focus enough to throw.

Then everything's black.

Deja vu.

TBC...

Thanks, Mel. You rock!

Hey, everybody. Since FFN has removed some of my work -- namely, my scripted movie parodies -- I have begun my own yahoo group. Yes, I realize there may have been an error in my thinking process there, but it's too late now. I've invited some people, those whose addresses are in my twisted little mind, but anyone and everyone else is welcome to join. In fact, please 

this will be updated there, also the abovementioned scripted movie parodies.

Thanks!

Paige


	54. Jilted And Jitters

Can I just repeat what I said about detesting a poisoner? I can just add it to the long list of strikes Leilanni has against her.

Something -- or someONE, I should say -- makes quite forceful contact with my side. And then again.

I manage to grab a hold of what's hitting me. It's a foot. I hear Leilanni make a yelping noise. I can't quite seem to get my eyes to focus, and my head is pounding so hard that any noise hurts and I can barely hear anyway. I drag the foot back towards me and sink my teeth into whatever's closest, as hard as I fucking can.

Leilanni screams, and my head explodes. Well, not literally, but it sure as hell feels like it. I bite her again, just for good measure, taste blood, and then shove her away. I hope it fucking scars.

I would like to apologize for the excessive use of profanity. If you'd just been poisoned, and had the freaking grandpappy of all headaches, you'd curse too.

"Bitch," Leilanni whines.

I manage to crack my eyes open. She's doubled over, clutching her shin. There's blood staining her fingers, and I feel a surge of satisfaction. Yes, I realize it's petty. No, I don't care.

I very carefully move my head to examine my sorroundings. If I can look around with my head staying attached and not hurting more than it already does, it'll be a good day. Or, at least, a better day than it has been so far. At least for not knowing what day it is. We are in a room, a stone one, which really isn't a great deal of help, since all of Minas Tirith is stone. How can I tell we're still in Minas TIrith. Elementary, my dear Watson. The stone is all white. The don't call it the White City for nothing, you know.

I slowly maneuver myself into a sitting position, keeping my one barely-open eye on Leilanni. She makes one move before my head is back on straight, and I don't care how much it hurts, I'll kill her with my bare hands.

"You know," I say conversationally, leaning back against the wall. "Someone who has this much of a jilted-bitch response to losing a guy she never had is in serious need of counseling."

"Shut up," she mutters, poking at her bleeding shin.

"It's kinda sad, actually," I continue, slowly moving into a crouch. "You didn't love him, not really."

She shoots me a quick glare. "How do you know?"

I shrug. Ouch. Moves the head, remind me not to do that again for a while. "You don't even know what love is. It's obvious. Neither one of you knew what love is. Mitanna didn't know, otherwise she would've known enough to back off when she saw that Aragorn and Arwen were together. Nothing can compete with that kind of love."

"Legolas is different," she mutters, still glaring at me.

I get my feet more firmly underneath me. The room has stopped spinning, which is a definite plus. Everything's very focused now, like it is during battle. "Yeah, Legolas isn't Arwen's betrothed." I smirk at her. I know I'm egging her on, and I know I shouldn't. Knowing doesn't stop you from doing something stupid, though. As I think I'm proving. "Legolas is mine."

And before everyone starts going on about how no one owns anyone, and everybody's their own person -- I KNOW. You're preaching to the choir, baby. But that's not how she thinks, I'd bet a month of my pay. And I make quite a bit more as a leader in Minas Tirith than I did flipping burgers.

She shrieks and leaps at me like some kind of avenging harpy. I brace myself and bare my teeth. Bitch going DOWN.

I clench one fist, bring it up and under her chin, knocking her back and flat on her perfect ass. Then I bolt for the door. Just not fast enough. She grabs my ankle and latches on, but doesn't think to use her teeth. See, I'm just more creative in the ways of pain than most. Lucky me, eh?

I kick the foot back, nail her in the face, and take off.

I go racing out the door, and I'm around the corner and smack into the wall before I realize I don't know where I'm going.

111

It has recently occured to me that I spend far too much time unconcious. Lack of food and rest, blood loss, blows to the head, wine, and solid stone walls are excellent ways to enter and maintain that state for long periods of time. Trust me.

I sit up and clutch my head. Head pains? Also getting far too common.

Leilanni folds her arms and glares at me. "How many times am I going to have to catch you?" she snarls.

Hmm. How about until you grow a brain under all that blonde and learn to tie up your prisoners? Bimbo. "Get a clue," I snap instead. "You have to keep poisoning me and bashing me over the head just to catch me, because you know you're no match for in a fair fight. And, if we're completely honest, the only reason that you're doing this at all is out of some twisted sense of inadequacy. Legolas is never going to love you, Leilanni. And if he ever agrees to do anything for you, it'll be because of me, because he's afraid for me, and I would die before I would let you put a single one of your nasty claws on him. So do your worst, bitch. Everything you've wanted since you've got here is denied to you. And you have no one to blame but yourself."

She stares at me for a second, and then her big blue eyes fill with tears. I throw up my arms. Oh, for the love of...

"It's not fair," she whispers. "It's just not fair. Everything I did since I came here was for HIM. And he chooses YOU! You're...you're..." She seems at a loss for words. Not surprising, considering her brain capacity. "You're not even PRETTY!"

I laugh slightly. She sounds like me, for a second. "I'll agree with you."

"What does he see in you?" she hisses.

I think about that for a second. Do I know? No. And you know what? I'm OK with that.

I look at her and shrug. "Maybe it's the fact that I see him for HIM, and not for his lineage or his title or his power. Maybe because I listen to his stories and his songs and don't try to shimmy my way into his pants. Maybe because I love him for his mind and his life and those stories, not because he's pretty." I sigh. One thing I never expected to feel was pity. It's not a lot, but there's a bit there. Of course, it's currently being overwhelmed by anger and satisfaction at watching the bitch's downfall. But hey, someone has to educate the ignorant. "You don't get it, do you? It's all of him. Not just the looks and the title, which I'm sure you never even got past. It's all of him. And someone like you could never understand that."

She scuffs her shoes over the stone floor. "You can go home," she blurst suddenly, and fishes a gold pendant out of a pocket. She holds it out ot me. "You could go home, Kayli. Just use this pendant, and you could go home."

Oh, yeah. I believe her, no fear. "What am I supposed to do, click my heels three times and say 'there's no place like home?'"

She frowns. "I don't know," she mutters. God, she's not even clever enough to think up a plausible lie. "Mitanna made it, and she didn't tell me how to use it. I think she just thought that we'd end up where we wanted and not have to use it."

"Mitanna was a moron," I say. "She should've at least told you how to use it. And you should figure it out and use it. I'm not leaving. I would love to see my family back home, but I can't loose what I have here. I don't want to kill you, Leilanni, but if you try to hurt me or the people I love again, I will."

She suddenly snarls at me and chucks the pendant at my head. "Take it and go, Kayli. That Elf will be mine."

I pick up the pendant and pocket it. "Dream on, bitch."

She storms out.

One reason the bad guys never win? They're dumb. The good guys are much smarter. Very rarely does an intelligent protagonist leave a live enemy behind. Now, how to get back to the palace...

111

Elessar was pissed. Seriously. He does not like having that bitch loose in his city.

That was three days ago. Count them, three. Now she's busted out the bow and is attempting to play sniper whenever I go out into the city. Which means I would go all the time, if I wasn't agraid she'd pick off some of the unsuspecting populace. Her aim sucks.

And before you start in on me about how I'm supposed to be a smart protagonist, I didn't have a weapon.

And if you think Elessar is pissed, dig on Legolas. I have never seen him so angry. Never. He's ready to fly off the fucking handle if he sees her. He, and everybody else, let's face it, has taken to carrying weapons with them wherever they go. Legolas, however, is very intent on using them.

I'm kind of hoping he finds her, actually. It'd be funny, if nothing else.

We got through Faramir and Eowyn's wedding. But we have one more thing to do before everyone once more goes there seperate ways and settles into their new lives.

Yeah, you guessed it.

I only have one week left before I am, officially, a married woman. Well, actually, it's only six days and about five hours.

Please, could someone just kill me? Please?

And to think, thought the fittings for the bridesmaids dresses were horrible. Oh, no. It's nothing compared to this. We should have fucking eloped. Do they have elopement in Middle-Earth? Something to look into.

The dressmaker sighs and makes a noise suspiciously like a snarl. "Will you hold still?"

I frown and cross my arms over my chest. No, I cannot hold still. Would you be able to hold still?

She folds her arms over her own chest and glares at me, then throws up her arms, as if she just can't believe her posture was so horrible. Ha! I have that effect on people.

Frustrating them, not making them slouch. I'm scrambled. Just ignore me.

Faramir pokes his head into the room, and Iariel immediately flies off the handle. She's almost as nervous about the damn ceremony as I am. "He can't see the bride!" she shrieks, swinging her apron at Faramir's head.

"I'm nowhere near the door!" Legolas yells from somewhere...not near the door. Let's just say...out of the two of us, I'm not the only one who's edgy. Legolas is teetering scarily close to the brink of insanity.

It's another effect I have on people.

Yes, I do love it. It's an empowering feeling, knowing that you can drive a guy absolutely crazy without even really trying. Of course, most chicks go for a less harmful type of insanity, but I'll take what I can get. 'Sides, I am definintely not like most girls. I like it that way.

Am I babbling? I am, aren't I? I told you I was nervous.

Faramir bats Iariel's apron away from his head and glares at her. He does not like being forced to spend time away from his new wife.Hey, that's OK. I'm not exactly having fun here, either. "Elessar sent me," he snarls. "We have a problem. Leilanni has gone to the Orcs of Mordor for allies. Our informations says they're planning to attack."

I say something really foul I picked up from Elladan and start to get down from the stool thing the seamstress has me on. Iariel apparently sees me heading for the door, about to head out in my spiffy, incomplete wedding dress, so she squeaks, grabs my arm, and shoves another dress at me. "He can't see the bride!" she shrieks again.

"Fine, fine!" I yell, ducking her apron. I do not know WHY she is so crabby. Her own campaign is going well. Brioc is completely stuck on her. So why she's swinging her apron at people is kind of beyond me.

"I'm across the bloody room!" Legolas yells. Legolas NEVER yells. This is getting out of hand. I swear at Iariel and gesture Faramir out of the room. He holds his hands up in surrender and leaves. The seamstress mutters something about losing a whole days work and storms out.

This is so not my day. Can it get worse?

Oh, shit. Way to go, Kayli. Way to jinx yourself.

This day is not going to end well. Why did I want to do this again. I head out of the room and catch sight of Legolas, standing by the window, downing another glass of wine. Oh, yeah. I remember now.

I walk across the room and appropriate his wine glass. I'm pretty sure he's had enough. It's the middle of the freaking afternoon. He does NOT need to be getting sloshed. "Do we know what they're planning to attack? Not even Leilanni is dumb enough to march on the City."

"Guess," Legolas say sarcastically.

Ithilien. Naturally. "Great," I mutter. "So, when do we leave?"

Brioc folds his arms over his chest and shoots a nervous glance at Iariel. She's making him paranoid. "Are you always so eager to do battle?"

"I'm not eager. I want this bitch dead and gone."

"Here, here," Hal says cheerfully.

I glance around the room, taking a quick head count. Both brothers, Hal, Legolas, Brioc, and Iariel, standing in the corner, looking lost. She has no idea what she's supposed to do when we're standing around discussing battle. I kinda feel sorry for her.

"Elessar wants us to leave as soon as we've gathered our Men," Boromir says. "You and I will march out in the morning. Brioc is leaving with a contingent to escort Faramir and our Elven friends to their own troops."

"Eowyn wants to come," Faramir says.

I shrug. "Good. We could use another blade."

He laughs. "Now I know why she likes you so much," he says. "Unlike everyone else, you WANT her to fight."

I shrug again. "If you don't want her with your Rangers, she can come with us."

Boromir's eyes widen. "Now, wait just one moment --"

Legolas cuts him off. "The Dwarf is accompanying us," he says to Faramir, mostly to prevent Boromir from making an ass of himself. "As will my brother."

"I still say we should give her to your father," Hal says. Didn't I tell you he was evil? I'm liking him more all the time.

Derinsul pokes his head into the room. "Elessar is yelling," he says casually. "Does he do this often?"

"Not usually," Brioc replies. "Who is he yelling at?"

"The Steward. I believe the word 'traitorous' came into play. He's almost as impressive when he's angry as our Adar."

Boromir and Faramir both wince. Oddly, they have a pretty easy time believing that their Adar would work against the King. Oddly, me too.

Did I just use the word Adar? Ugh. Too much time with Elves.

Somebody help me.

TBC...

OK, for everybody's who's interested, FFN will not allow you to put addresses, email or websit, into fics or reviews. Interesting, no?

So, I'm gonna try to cheat.

paigedarkefic at yah oo groups dot com.

Ain't this fun?Here's hoping it works.


	55. Words Of Jedi Wisdom

This so sucks. Don't get me wrong, it's great to get out of the city -- I'd just like to do it once when somebody's life ISN'T at stake, you know? Just once, I want to go somewhere because I want to, not because the fate of the world is at stake or something, and they need everybody who can hold a bloody sword.

I'm getting off the soapbox now. Y'all can look again.

It's a sad, sad day when you can get so blase about war. That when somebody warns you you'll be outnumbered, you can shrug and say 'happens all the time.' I so wish I wasn't one of those people. I lean back in my saddle, hooking one leg around the front to hold me on and stretching. Tosun nearly falls off his horse. Hal snickers, then Legolas's brother -- whatshisname, the dark-haired one -- kicks him in the ankle. I shake my head. People are so confusing. I don't care who they are. They're all bloody mad. It's a long bloody ride to Ithilien in the company of lunatics.

Fortunately, we're almost there. Then we can kill Leilanni, go home, and (hopefully) live relatively happily ever after.

Yeah, I know. I won't hold my breath, either.

We reach the edge of the forest, stash the horses, and watch the Elves vanish in that absolutely freaky way they have. If you can find an Elf in a forest without supernatural powers, I will give you money. Real money.

Faramir makes an odd noise, shakes his head, and rolls his eyes heavenward. Elves make him nervous, especially Hal. I have no idea why. He's a lot like Boromir in that way -- Elves make him nervous. Dwarves don't, they're too earthy, like Men. You'd be amazed the things you learn from listening to conversations between groups of drunken males, not counting the bawdy songs.

Although those are certainly educational.

One thing that sucks? Slinking through the bushes, once you get used to it, doesn't take up nearly enough of your concentration. It gives you far too much time to think, about far too many things. What's going on back home, future plans, the battle up ahead, random shit. I hate my brain.

Not like we all don't know what my main thoughts are on -- Legolas, my brothers, my men. I have a three-track mind, which is better than a lot of people I know, who have a one-track or no-track mind. Not that I would be talking about my brothers....Nooo.

I can hear Boromir muttering something under his breath about Edana and not moving nearly as silently as Faramir thinks he should. Of course, I think he's being obnoxiously loud too, but I might be biased. He's not usually this distracted. Edana's getting to him, I know she is. I resist the ruge to stand up and cheer. It would draw too much attention to us. Yay, I am a tactical type person! Hooray!

We find a place where we can see the Orc camp and settle down to wait. Faramir's nervous twitches are all gone, and now he's the cool warrior, the level-headed leader. It's kinda scary, the way these people change personas. It's like mild scizophrenia.

I tilt my head, doing a quick head count of my own men, then checking the placement of Boromir's Men and Faramir's. It's habit. Making sure everybody's in the right place, so that we can get the fuck out of here with a minimum of injuries.

I'm a leader-type person! Yay!

I peer of my bit of bushes, and catch a glimpse of long blonde hair in the orc camp. Leilanni is pacing, waiting for her minions to wake, since the sun is still up. It'll be at least another two hours before sunset which is why we're here so early. As we have learned before, best to attack when they're not expecting it. And since Orcs sleep during the day....really the best time to attack, yeah?

I send a quick glance at Faramir, and he nods and gives a tight little grin. I nod back and wave my Men forward. Out if the corner of my eye, I see Faramir steal a quick kiss. From Eowyn, you perves.

She never saw us coming.

It is absolutely wonderful to have someone there to watch your back. If somebody gets to close to any of us, an arrow takes them out. There are so many bloody Elves in the trees, they outnumber the bloody birds. I catch Leilanni's eye, and she goes pale, and a Ranger almost skewers her. She squeaks, and, naturally, turns and runs away. I swear, something really, really awful, which I actually didn't learn from the twins, and take off after her, knocking Orcs out of my way. When I clear the battle, I see a flash of long pale hair vanishing into the woods.

That fucking coward. I can't stand people who run away from their problems.

One thing I have to give Leilanni -- she's fucking FAST. Good thing I've been getting all that exercise, yeah?

And this evening, since we know that one thing a battle of good verus evil is NEVER complete without, Middle-Earth theater presents -- The Evil Lair.

A fucking cave. Naturally, huh? Have I ever told you how much I hate caves? Why, oh WHY, does it always have to be a cave?

I catch another glimpse of long blonde hair as she ducks into the cave entrance. I duck in after her, slowing down considerably, watching for her....BLONDE is easy to see, even in the bloody dark. It comes from experience. Yes, I am blushing. Shut up.

Concentrate, Kayli, concentrate, you really can't afford to fuck up, not even against this bitch.

BAM! Ow, ow, ow. Throwing rocks at your opponents is NOT fair fucking play! Come down here and fight like a man, you bitch!

Yes, I realize that did not make any sense. I grab the rock she threw, aim, and fire as hard as I can. I hear a shreik, and feel a little surge of self-satisfaction. Yes, I am a petty bitch. Woo-hoo.

"You gonna stay up there, aiming rocks like the bloody coward you are, or are you going to get your tail out from between your legs and get up the guts to get to fight me face to face."

"Pfft," she says. "You wouldn't stand a chance."

I laugh at that, actually laugh. "Right. Tell me, who's been training the men of Gondor for the past, oh, YEAR?"

She sniffs and steps out in front of me, holding her sword like she's had at least one lesson with the weapons coach. I draw my second blade, and assume the battle-ready stance. As Robin Hood would say: prepare for the fight scene. She holds her hands up like she might know what the hell she's doing -- after all, I've fought her enough. She's not too bad. Here's hoping I'm better.

We circle each other for a moment. She has a bit of an advantage with a long blade, granted. She can strike from a greater distance than I can with two little short blades. Then again, I have an advantage with two blades over her one, and also my SO extensive training. Or exhausting, whatever word you choose.

She moves first. If there's anything my training has taught me, it's that your enemies are often impatient.

She swings at my head,.and I duck left and under, bringing the left blade over to cut her side. Apparently, Yoda was right about some things. Anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering. And, y'know, bloodshed.

She lets out a cry of pain, clapping one hand over her bleeding side, and I step off to the side, keeping narrowed eyes on her. I could kill her, just stab her in the back, but somehow, I can't bring myself to do it. Goddamn training. I HATE being the honorable one. Boromir's a bad influence.

Leilanni takes a deep breath, steadying herself. Some of the shadows shift at the mouth of the cave, the bottle moving closer. I can hear that ugly, harsh language from the orcs, like needles in my eardrums. I can hear familiar battle-cries -- 'Lasgalen!' 'Imladris' 'Elessar!', mixed with some Elvish and Dwarvish I don't recognize. And also curses and screams, the usual sounds of battle. I HATE battle. Remember what I said about hating battle? Multiply it by bloody 10 and you'll have some idea of what I feel when I march into nearly-certain death. Think about it. How would you fucking feel?

Leilanni launches herself at me, apparently steadier than she thought, and the battle begins for real. As much as I hate to admit this, deep under the broiling hatred is a tiny smidgen of respect. When she keeps her head on her shoulders and doesn't tweak over the little shit, she's actually relatively good. I've seen better, of course, but she's not too bad. It's really a pity -- we're pretty much equals.

The shifting shadows at the door lend our little duel a kind of surreal feel. The sounds of battle are quieting outside, and the Men -- namely Boromir, Faramir, Tosun, and Gimli -- are probably starting to look for me. Another five minutes pass, thrusting, blocking, swinging, and occasionally bleeding. She's in worse shape than I am, but the losing side can get desperate and lucky. And the winning side can get sloppy. Since I've spent the last six months preaching to my Men about the same damn thing, I'm trying to be extra careful.

I score another small hit, on Leilanni's arm, and more shadows start shifting at the entrance. I see long blond hair out of the corner of my eye, definitely not Leilanni's, but I keep my concentration. Suddenly, she shrieks and charges. Like I said, she's bloody FAST, even bleeding and tired. I manage to knock the sword out of her hand, but she pulls a small knife from somewhere and we go at it again. I manage to slam one blade into her side the same time she manages to bury her knife up to the fucking hilt in my shoulder. I cry out, Leilanni lets out a shriek of triumph and grabs her sword again.

Well, that's one arm useless. Fuck.

I drop the blade and try to block her sword with only one hand -- harder than it sounds, trust me. And, once more, I would like to ask you -- WHY IS IT ALWAYS ME?

I see more movement out of the corner of my eye, and watch as Leilanni's eyes shift that way. And I bring my other knife up and around as hard as I can, slipping it easily between her ribs. Then I stumble, fall back against the wall and slide down it. I don't see her die. Everything goes black.

I can tell I'm in the Halls of Healing even before I open my eyes -- this place is a little TOO familiar. It's the smell of athelas and herbs and wildflowers from the Hobbits. One of my arms won't move -- must be from the blade in my shoulder. I lift the other one to my face, open my eyes, and try to focus. The first thing I really hear is the sound of Hobbits arguing over second breakfast. Hey, at least that means it's still morning. What day, though, that's still a mystery.

"Oi, she's awake!" Pippin's cries, and immediately remedies the pain in my head by sitting on my stomach. Yeah, that was real helpful, Pip, thanks.

I make a funky little gasping noise and push at Pippin with my good arm. "Get off her, Pip!"

Wait wait wait -- didn't the Hobbits go home?

Who cares? I'll think about it when I can breathe. "Get off me, Pippin! I can't breathe!"

Frodo and Merry join forces and yank Pippin off the bed and through him on the floor, and Sam places a tray of food neatly on the bedside table, somehow avoiding walking on the other two.

"We thought you might be hungry," Sam says cheerfully. Of course they did. They're bloody hobbits. They always think you're hungry. At this exact moment in time, however, the mere thought of food is making me really really nauseous.

I shake my head and struggle into a sitting position, with Merry's help. Somehow, we all manage to arrange ourselves. Sam and Frodo are sitting in the chairs beside the bed, Merry's sprawled on the edge of the bed, I'm propped up on most of the pillows in the Halls of Healing, and Pippin is using my leg as a pillow. It's really, very strange. To be sorrounded by this many Hobbits, and no Elves or Men.

Elves. Legolas. I open my mouth to contribute to the conversation -- a first today, I'm finally sure I won't be throwing up if I do open my mouth -- but Merry beats me to the punch. "Legolas was here, but his father drug him out."

I frown. "King Thranduil's here?"

The Hobbits exchange glances, communicating in that creepy, wordless was they have. "Well, you and Legolas are gettin' married in a couple days, my Lady," Sam says.

I frown. That makes a good, what, two or three days unconcious? "How many days until the wedding?" I ask.

Another wordless exchange. "Three," Merry volunteers finally.

I just blink at them for a moment. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have once more spent more than twenty-four hours unconcious. Thank you, thank you VERY fucking much.

I flop back onto the bed and mutter a stream of obscenities that apparently impresses Merry and Pippin. "That was pretty amazing," Pippin whispers.

"Remind me about some of those, will you, Pip?"

I struggle back into a sitting position, ignoring the Hobbits protests. There's shouting, more than a little swearing, and some scuffling, and it ends with Pippin wrapped around one of my legs, Sam tugging on my arm, and Merry and Frodo forming a two-Hobbit barricade in front of the door, gripping the frame so hard their knuckles are white and the most stubborn expressions I've ever seen. I plant my hands on my hips and assume the voice that always makes my men listen. Of course, these are Hobbits, and immune to such things. Or something. Whatever, it's not bloody working. "Meriadoc Brandybuck, Frodo Baggins, you move right this instant!"

"No, ma'am," Frodo says firmly, hooking one heel more firmly around his cousin's leg. "We're under orders to keep you put."

And on that cheerfy note, Pippin gets a firmer grip on my leg and sits on my foot. Oh, this is just beyond ridiculous.

I end up in a one-armed wrestling match against two hobbits, with another hanging on my leg and a fourth gaping at me like a fish. I have Merry pinned under my useless arm and am currently attempting to one-arm-wrestle a laughing Frodo to the floor -- who knew the Ringbearer was ticklish? -- when light, familiar laughter reaches my ears.

God, I'm getting poetic. Just fucking shoot me, ok?

In one deft move, Legolas rescues Merry from under my arm and pulls Frodo to his feet. Pippin is leaning his head on my leg, still sitting on my foot, tears of laughter just pouring down his face. Merry climbs onto my bed and falls over laughing. Frodo collapses against Sam, who still looks like he's in shock. Legolas glances down at Pippin, arches an eyebrow, and looks at me. I plant my good hand on my hip and glare at him.

He's fighting not to laugh. I can tell. I hate it when he laughs at me. Even when I know I'm doing something stupid, something I know should be laughed at, I HATE it when he laughs at me. And he knows it, which is why he's trying so hard not to laugh.

Legolas slips and arm around my waist and kisses me quickly. I hear an 'aww', fake vomiting, and kissing noises from behind me. He smirks at me. "You're cute when you pout," he informs me, then ducks as I start to swing at his head.

TBC...

We're almost at the end now, folks. Thanks for everything.

My fingers move! Yay!


	56. Nuptial Bliss

I never realized, that when the day actually got here, that Boromir would be even more nervous than I was. He's muttering, pacing, glaring at random people. He made Iariel cry this morning, and then I said he couldn't talk anymore or I'd have him muzzled. He shut up then. I am nervous enough without that shit.

Thranduil is leaning in the doorway, watching us both with an amused expression. Iariel glances at him, pales, and bolts for the nearest exit. Boromir catches his eye, swears, and follows Iariel. I fold my arms over my chest and glare at his Majesty. He arches an eyebrow at me. He has this power to make me distinctly uncomfortable. I start fiddling with the sleeves of my dress. It's blue, which I insisted on. I'm following the tradition my Mom was always harping on. Something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue. The dress is blue. I have a borrowed a bracelet from Eowyn, and a new ring from Boromir. Now, all I need is something old. But I don't have anything old. Well, does Legolas count?

That was harsh. I'm sorry. A little. Well...no, I'm not.

"Nervous?" Thranduil asks. See, this is the part where he's supposed to be all gentle and concerned. Ha! He seems to be taking an unholy enjoyment in my suffering. He even has that insufferable little grin.

I hate Elves.

I just glare, and he laughs lightly. "I have something for you," he says drily. My eyes narrow. I do not trust gifts. Not even from the father of my future husband. He smiles a bit at my expression. "Legolas told me about this tradition of yours."

I twist the ring around my finger. "I'm missing something old," I mutter.

He holds out one hand, which has something green and silvery wrapped around it. "This will do, I think," he murmurs.

I take it from him. It's a necklace fashioned in the shape of a chain of leaves, green outlined in silver. It's beautiful. "Legolas," he murmurs. "I gave it to my wife after she had our first son." I frown at him, and he shrugs. "When we first met, it was all she would adorn herself with," he explains. He quickly hooks it around my neck. "She would have liked you," he adds. "She was a free spirit."

I laughed. If my entire personality could be fit into two words, that would probably be them.

Iariel pokes her head back into the room, squeaks, and ducks back out. He stares after her for a second, looking slightly amused. "Strange child," he says softly, kisses me genlty on the brow, and leaves.

Elves are weird.

Apparently, Legolas is in even worse condition than I am. From the laughter, I think they've had to restrain him from bolting once or twice. I am not encouraged. In fact, I am beating my head on the wall.

"Um, Kayli?"

That would be either Elladan or Elrohir. I can't tell, as I can't see him, because all I can see is the wall. Yes, the one I am beating my head against. "Yes?"

"What are you doing?"

"I" Thwack. "Am." Thwack. "Trying." Thwack. Thwack. "To knock." Twack. "Myself." Thwack. "Unconvious."

Pause. "Why?"

I sigh and just flop down on the floor. You know how women in movies always make this move look so goddamn graceful? Not me. Nope. Not even in the slightest. I am a giant, gibbering mass of skirts and hair and jewelry. "This is a nightmare," I mutter.

Elladan -- at least, I think it's Elladan, I'm not really in any state to tell -- just stares at me blankly. "Um...don't you want to marry him?"

I give him a scathing look. "Of course I want to marry him. Nimrod."

Another blank stare. "Then what's the problem?"

I pull at my hair. Iariel's going to have to fix it again. "This is a mistake."

Elladan -- no, Elrohir -- ha, Ellahir, just in case -- makes a frustrated noise and rakes both hands through his hair. He's lucky he hadn't done anything with it. "I don't understand."

I push my way back to my feet and make some effort to straighten my dress. Not that it matters. He'll probably figure out that this is a huge fuck-up on his part and bolt back for Mirkwood. If he had half a brain, he would. "Of course you don't understand," I snap. "I don't understand. It doesn't make any sense. Why did he agree to this anyway?"

The twin arches an eyebrow at me. Can all Elves do that? I have yet to see a single human who can. I mean, Aragorn can, but he was RAISED by Elves. Some things rub off, right? Isn't there some Elvish blood in his family tree? That would make sense.

God, I'm rambling. Just kill me, would you? I knew I wasn't that lucky.

"If I remember my oh-so-ancient history correctly--" Spoken like someone who can practically remember when this kingdom was just starting out -- "It was HE who proposed to YOU."

I fiddle with my skirt. "He was probably drunk. Oh! Or maybe it was a dare! His brothers seem to enjoy tormenting others."

Elrohir -- it's definitely Elrohir, he's not trying to make a joke out of everything -- throws up his arms in frustration. "You're stuck with him now, you know. Even if this is a horrible mistake. It's not like you could get rid of each other even now. This is just making it official."

I make a face at him. Why can't we just leave it unofficial. "Don't make sense," I say instead. It worries me when one of you two is logical."

He assumes one of those high-and-mighty expressions Elves also do so well -- they're multi-talented, you know. "I assume, my Lady, that you are thinking of my brother. I'm Elrohir. I AM the logical one."

I snort. I hear a disgusted noise from behind the door, and I know it's Iariel. "Out of the two of you, that's not saying much."

He laughs and pulls me over to a couch. "Too true." He sits me down and sprawls down next to me. Since Iariel would holler if I wrinkled my dress, I do the lady-like thing and smooth my skirts under. 'Ro smirks at me. I never realized how weird it would feel to act like a lady.

Suddenly something hits me. Legolas is a Prince. Does that mean more of this lady bullshit? I shake my head, getting rid of the thought before it has time to form completely. That's not something I really want to worry about right now. I'll worry about it later if I have to.

Elrohir reaches out and rubs my back. "If it makes you feel better, Legolas is almost as convinced as you are that this is a mistake."

I sit up straight and poke a finger into his face, like this is a major victory. "See?"

He laughs. "He's convinced YOU are making the mistake, little one."

I stare at him blankly. "How would I be making the mistake?"

He leans back on the couch, happily putting his boots on the upholstery. "By tying yourself down to someone you can't grow old with," he explains. "Someone who can't share the joys of life with you. Like children."

I flinch back, almost violently. Kids? Whoa, whoa, hold the phone. Who the HELL said anything about kids?

Elrohir laughs at my reaction. "That's coming from him, not me, child."

I glare. "Stop calling me child."

He bows his head slightly, seriousing right up. Another difference between him and Dan. Dan keeps laughing, even if it's just in his eyes. Elrohir doesn't. "He loves you, and he wants you to be happy," he says firmly. "It's the same thing that you want for him."

I flop back in my chair. Fuck the dress. "Why do I have to chose the most ridiculous, impossible fucking relationships?"

He lays an arm around my shoulder. "Just try to be happy," he says, suddenly so serious that it scares me, a little. "It's all that any of us can hope for, just a bit of happiness." He squeezes my shoulder. "Even those of us who will live forever, or close to it." He kisses my cheek and stands up quickly. "You should have your maiden fix your hair," he says, looking critically at my messed-up braids. "You only have a few hours left." And he slips out the door.

I really hate Elves.

All that's missing is a heart-to-heart from my other brother, and this day will be complete.

Well, except for the wedding. Just another little, teeny detail.

Iariel fixed my dress, redid my hair, gave me a last, critical look over, and rushed out to help with the other preparations. I don't know what they are, and I'm kinda afraid to ask, actually. I'm pacing again. The nifty thing about long gowns? They make the coolest rustling noises when you pace.

Luckily, I am very, very easily distracted.

Faramir pokes his head in the door. "Are you ready?"

I manage to nod. I am suddenly petrified. Like, absolutely frozen. Unable to move. Faramir makes a concerned face and hurries over to me. He wraps an arm around me and guides me back over to the couch where Elrohir and I sat a little while ago. He kneels down in front of me, looking all concerned, and then starts to laugh.

I do not just hate Elves. At this exact moment in time, I fucking hate everybody.

"I'm sorry," he gasps out, between peels of laughter, "but you look just like I did before I married Eowyn." And then he continues to laugh.

OK, you know what, if I have to do this, then I am going to bloody well do this and get it the fuck over with. WITHOUT anyone else laughing at me, thank you very much. I grab Faramir by the arm and yank him back up to his feet. "Let's get this over with, Sparky," I mutter, and drag him out of the room.

I know you all are looking for a description of the ceremony. Well, tough. I remember very little of it.

I remember walking down the aisle with Boromir. I remember standing at the alter, holding Legolas's hands and looking into his eyes. I remember saying something, stumbling over the Elvish, and I remember the very breif kiss at the end. Other than that, nothing. Nada. Zip.

When I finally come back to reality, Legolas and I are sorrounded by people inside the Hall. He has an arm around my waist, I'm thinking to keep me standing. He leans over, presses a kiss to my temple and a glass of wine into my hand. "You look exhausted, love."

I shake my head slowly. "It's kinda hard to believe that it's really...over and done with."

He pulls me close and presses a kiss to my brow. "Hard to believe that your quest against Leilanni is over, or that we're married?"

I laugh slightly. I do NOT sound shaky. I don't. "Both." I lean into him for a moment, then straighten, and glance quickly around the room. Everyone seems to be having an absolutely wonderful time. No, I don't trust it. Nobody should be that damn happy. What IS the big deal with weddings, anyway?

Legolas laughs slightly at my expression and runs his fingers over the chain on my neck. "This was my mother's," he murmurs.

I nod. "I know. Your father told me."

Legolas smiles slightly. "He thinks she would have liked you."

I tilt my head back and look at him. "Don't you think she would have liked me?"

He shrugs but doesn't meet my eyes. "I would like to think so." He looks up at me and smiles slightly. "We didn't get the chance to know her as well as Adar did."

I slip my arms around his waist. "I keep forgetting you're old."

He laughs suddenly and starts to pull me out towards where everyone is dancing. I dig my heels in and try not to move. I do not want to dance.

He raises his eyebrow at me, laughs and pulls hard on my hands. You know, I keep forgetting how strong he is. It's cause he's so damn...thin. Wiry. Lithe. God, I am pathetic. Just kill me.

Why do I say that so often?

Legolas slips his arm around my waist and takes my hand, easily guiding me through the steps. He makes it look so EASY, you know? After a long moment, he presses his lips to my forehead. "I'll make you happy, love. I swear it," he whispers.

And that, y'all, is all any girl can hope for.

END

Epilogue is coming, however.


	57. Epilogue Gandalf

Every story has an ending. Some endings are happy, some are tragic.

The end of this tale is a combination of the two.

Oh, Kayli of Gondor did not die young. By no means, she was an old woman by the standards of Men.

By the standards of Elves -- one, in particular -- her life ended far too soon. But that is the natural order of things in the world of Men -- as Middle-Earth now is, in it's entirity. Within time, Elves, Wizards, perhaps even Hobbits and Dwarves will be no more than a memory.

I was not there upon the lady's passing. I left long before, only four years after the end of our Quest, and the end of our Fellowship. Gone, but never forgotten. Much like her.

These are the pages within which she wrote her life. Her life in Middle-Earth, and what she remember of her life before. There is some of all of us preserved within these pages, more of some than others. Legolas said that one should write something to end this tale, but since he could not bring himself to do it, this task fell to me, though I must say I was amongst her least favorite people. Ever.

I have read very little of what was written in these pages, and I know very little about her life after the end of our Quest. I know more about her death than her life. And that's only because Legolas tends to get a bit maudlin and babble when he gets enough wine into him. Garulous when drunk, that boy.

I know that the Quest changed her, perhaps on a far deeper level than anyone could have imagined. She became, during our Quest, what she was truly meant to be. A soldier. A warrior. A leader. She changed lives, and outlooks, and opinions. Even some of mine, and I am far too old to change.

And I think that this is far too much of a very old man's maudlin ramblings. Suffice it to say that she was a remarkable young woman when I knew her, and I've heard little about the rest of her life to make me believe that changed when she grew old.

She was loved, and she is missed. Wherever he goes, a certain Elf prince goes with a chain about his neck that holds a pair of mithril rings and a Dwarf. Remnants of love and a life left behind for these Undying Lands. His most treasured posssession is a wooden box with her possessions in it, those that meant the most to her.

See? Maudlin.

I remember her fondly. There was a certain incident with a certain Lothlorien border guard that is still being retold that ever continues to bring tears of laughter to my eyes. Her rememberances of the Hobbits are truly stunning to behold, and so true to life it amazes even me.

It's an amusing tale, to be certain. I feel like I'm taking unpermitted glances at her life, but her tales of the amusing lives of her brothers and such never cease to amuse me.

Ah, I remember what I'm to be doing.

Boromir and Edana wed not six months after Legolas and Kayli. And from what I hear, Kayli had no small part to play in THAT. Brioc and Iariel were also married. It always amused her that she had such a large part to play in the lives of others. And she never understood why.

It's a comfort to most, the fact that they will never be forgotten. Kayli detested it. All she wanted was to lead a silent life, in the footnotes of history.

Within time, all is forgotten, as the world of Men will forget Elves. And old wizards such as myself. Even such remarkable creatures as Frodo Baggins and Elessar Telcontar will vanish into history.

Until, perhaps, someday, heroes are needed once again.

Perhaps then, magic will return to the world of Men. Perhaps then, hope -- or estel, as the Elves say -- will return.

Perhaps.

END

That's it, folks. The epilogue. Kayli through Gandalf's eyes. A little nugget at the end. Thank you to everyone, most especially --

Melissa White, who did my beautiful beautiful beautiful art and whom I will love forever.

Iariel, Catherine Maria (aka Edana), Sylvia Viridian, Andrew Joshua Talon, Kat Hawkins, Nicole Berube, and endless others, for all their support.

Needless to say, you guys kick so much ass it should be illegal.

Thanks for everything. Seriously.


End file.
